


Visible Noise

by breeisonfire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Based on a Tumblr Post, Derek is an artist, Fluff and Angst, Gen, High School, Humor, Mild Language, Panic Attacks, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 67,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Stiles:</b> His name is Derek. He’s our age, our grade, sketches, wakes up before noon, and has been to NYC.<br/><b>Erica:</b> He’s also hot as fuck.<br/><b>Stiles:</b> There’s that, too.</p><p>Derek feels himself turning red again. Stiles is still grinning, and wiggles his eyebrows when Derek looks at him.</p><p><b>Danny:</b> Send a picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So once upon a time like a couple months ago, I saw [this post](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/post/85976404771/the-guardian-of-hope-ask-hiccup-and-jack) on tumblr, looked at the picture and went 'WHAT IF DEREK AND STILES.' And so I ran with it, and somehow ended up with this monster of a fic that's not even finished yet, and decided to start uploading it because why not?
> 
> IMPORTANT THINGS TO KNOW: Derek's the same age as Stiles and the rest of them in this fic, except Cora, who is younger. The fire still happened, and he, Laura, and Cora were the only survivors. Derek's an artist, and I'm not sure why, but you know, it works. I don't think I got everything tagged at this point, so if and when I think of something else, I'll add it. The title comes from a song done by a Welsh electronic music group called Hybrid, it's on their album Morning Sci-Fi and if you like EDM you should go listen to it.
> 
> I'll be uploading a new chapter every Friday, I believe, barring emergencies and Wi-Fi crashes (which happen to me a lot).
> 
> I'd like to thank the people who have been cheering me on this entire time: [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) for beta-ing and being with this from the very beginning even though I keep jumping around from fic to fic and half the time I don't really know what I'm doing; [southerntamata](http://thirstyweeaboo.tumblr.com/) for being the big enthusiastic fan that she is of my writing and yelling about pack dynamics and Sterek with me; and [thelolunicorn](http://thelolunicorn.tumblr.com/) for her confidence boosts, beta-ing, and being a generally all-around cool person to talk to. This fic would be nowhere without you guys, I love you all, really.
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/), I like talking to people!

“I’m serious, Derek,” Laura says as he carries the last box for her up to her room. “This is the last place for a while.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before,” Derek mumbles as he puts the box down on her floor. He wants to drop the box down and let whatever’s in it break, but he doesn’t want to hear about it and he doesn’t want to replace whatever it is. And there’s always the chance that it’s something that couldn’t be replaced, and Derek may be angry, but he’s not that awful.

“Derek,” Laura sighs, and Derek glares at her, because Laura’s got that ‘I’m-your-legal-guardian’ voice out. Derek _hates_ that voice. He hates the reminder it is, hates that when he hears it, he flashes back to that night, to fire and smoke and screams.

He can feel his breathing start to quicken and immediately forces his mind away from it. It’s been two years since their house burned down, since Laura had been forced back from college and named legal guardian for Derek and Cora. Ever since, they’ve been moving from place to place, with Laura trying to keep up with having a angry sixteen-year-old prone to panic attacks and a traumatized eleven-year-old with horrible nightmares. It’s not easy, Derek knows that, but he’s still _angry_ , and he can’t get rid of the anger.

Laura clears her throat. “We’re staying here as long as I can swing it, okay? My boss said that this should be my last transfer.”

Derek doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything, or he’ll start an argument, and Cora’s already upset. Any fights he start will just make her feel worse. He just looks at Laura.

“What do you want me to do, Derek?” Laura says, clearly frustrated, although she keeps her voice down. “You know I couldn’t refuse this. I would have lost my job, and we need the money.”

“I know,” Derek says quietly, feeling suddenly exhausted. They’ve been through this a hundred times. He doesn’t want to do it again, so he just nods and leaves Laura’s room and heads to his own.

As houses go, this one is one of the better ones they’ve lived in. For one, they all get their own rooms. They’ve lived in homes where Laura and Cora shared a bedroom and Derek slept on the couch. He much prefers this one, even if the pipes creak and the woman across the street had given him a dirty look. He hates the quiet and would rather not talk to his neighbors, anyway.

His room is bare, since he’d lost most of his possessions in the fire. He should have replaced everything, but he can’t do it. Every time he thinks about getting a new desk, or starting his book collection up again, he gets a sick feeling in his stomach. He can’t do it, not yet anyway.

The only thing he’s adamant about having is his art supplies. He saves up for them, and keeps them in an easy to reach place, and takes them with him when he leaves the house, in his art bag. He’s got a sketchbook and a well-used set of pencils. He’s been saving up for some new ones, but he’d had to leave his old job. He’s planning on setting out the next day to find a new one. There’s only a month of summer left, and Derek’s not looking forward to finding a job, because all that will be left is the rejects, he’s sure. The local high schoolers will have already taken the good ones.

He grabs his sketchbook and pencils and heads to the window. When he’d scoped it out earlier, he’d noticed that directly outside his window is a bit of roof with enough room for him to sit down on it. It was the ideal place for sketching, because it was out in the open air, and isolated enough that no one was going to bother him.

He climbs out, carefully testing the roof before putting his full weight on it. It holds just fine, which surprises Derek. He sits down on the roof and settles with his back against the side of the house and his knees bent, his sketchbook rest on his knees. The box of pencils is set down next to him, since the roof isn’t steep enough for it to slide off. He takes a deep breath and sets off finishing a sketch he’d started two weeks ago. It’s of the old house before it had burned down. Derek still remembers what it looked like, the image painfully clear in his memory. He remembers what it looked like the morning before it burned down.

He remembers what it looked like when it was burning.

He grits his teeth, lifting his pencil so he doesn’t do any damage to the sketch. He _hates_ that he does this. That he can’t escape the memories. They sneak up on him no matter what he’s doing. He’s tried getting rid of them, he’s tried every method the many therapists he’s had to see have suggested, but he can’t escape them. The only thing that helps is sketching, and even then it’s only marginally.

He’s startled by a voice that suddenly says, “Hey! Do you live there now?”

He looks up. He’d seen earlier that the house next door had a piece of roof similar to what he was sitting on, and it was pretty close to their house, maybe about two feet away from Derek’s spot. He hadn’t realized anyone lived there, but there’s a boy about his age climbing out of the window of the house with the ease of practice, carrying what looks like a laptop.

Derek blinks at him. The boy blinks back and says, “Well, I mean, obviously you live there, because you’re sitting there, if you were breaking in you wouldn’t be sitting on the roof with a sketchbook. Or maybe you would, I don’t know. Maybe you’re into that kind of thing. If you are, man, no judgement here. But my dad _is_ the sheriff, so if you’re breaking in you might want to clear out soon.”

Derek’s caught off-guard by the way the boy talks and the hand he’s waving as he speaks and takes a second too long to respond.

“I live here.”

“Oh, good!” the boy settles down, opening up his laptop. “I was really hoping you weren’t a burglar. That would suck. For both of us, you wouldn’t have found anything valuable in an empty house. Man, though, it’s been forever since someone lived there. I think a couple years? I don’t know. My name is Stiles, by the way. Stiles Stilinski.”

“Derek Hale.”

“Nice to meet you!” Stiles says, starting to type on his computer. “It’s nice to sit out here, huh? Wait until gets dark later. Not that you can see the stars, or anything, this is the city after all, but if you look that way,” and he points to Derek’s right, “you can see the lights of town. There’s -- I wouldn’t call it a hill exactly, more like a downward slope, but the point is you can see for a while.  And you should have been here for the fourth of July. The fireworks were _amazing_. Anyway! Welcome to the neighborhood!”

Derek just stares at Stiles. He talks faster than anyone Derek’s ever met before, and he’s bright and animated as he informs Derek of how the neighborhood works, not giving Derek a chance to say anything in response.

“There’s the Reyes across the street,” Stiles says, gesturing to Derek’s right. “Erica’s my age, she’s sixteen, and kind of badass. She will eat you alive. Her dad’s works for an insurance company, and her mom is a teacher, and they’re kind of like the neighborhood power couple. It’s almost terrifying. Erica’s dating a guy from our school, his name is Boyd. You’ll probably meet him sometime soon, if he isn’t taking care of his younger siblings or playing football he’s at Erica’s. Down the street are the McCalls. They’re out of town right now, family reunion, but Scott’s my best friend and his mom is a nurse. They’ll be back on Saturday. Scott’s like an overgrown puppy, seriously, you’ll probably like him. At the very end of the street there’s the Lahey’s. Isaac is in my grade, too, and he’ll probably try to keep to himself. We don’t let him.”

Stiles looks up just then and sees Derek staring at him. His cheeks start to turn pink and he says, “Sorry, I just get carried away sometimes. I’ve got ADHD and my dad’s been working a lot this summer, and Scott’s out of town, and I tend to annoy my other friends if I get going like this, so I haven’t really had anyone to talk to? I’ll be quiet now.”

Derek looks at Stiles, who won’t look at him now, focused intently on his laptop, although his hands aren’t moving, and neither are his eyes. He clears his throat and says, “I don’t mind.”

Stiles looks up at him again, narrowing his eyes at him for a second before saying, “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Derek says.

“Oh, cool!” Stiles says, leaning forward, the embarrassment disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “So does that mean you’re a junior, too?”

Derek nods.

“Sweet! We’ll have class together,”Stiles says, and goes back to his computer. “So where are you from?”

“We moved here from New York,” Derek says carefully. He’s not going to bring up the fire. He’s not even going to think about the fire. This is him, talking to Stiles, like a normal person. He can do normal person.

“New York?” Stiles asks, and there’s a note of excitement in his voice. “I’ve never been. I’ve never even been outside of California. Did you go to New York City? Have you seen the Statue of Liberty?”

Derek nods. “We lived on Staten Island. I used to go ride the ferry when I needed a break.”

“So you’ve seen the Statue of Liberty like a million times, then?” Stiles says, eyes wide. “That’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to go to New York. My dad took my mom once, to see the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, but it was before I was born.”

Derek listens as Stiles talks about New York, and then moves on to talk about the other places he wants to visit. He’s got a plan to take a trip to NYC after he graduates high school, and a plan to see all of Europe after college. Derek’s fascinated by the way Stiles talks about other places, like they’re some magical land waiting to be explored. He knows it’s not true, but it’s hard not to get caught up in Stiles’s excitement.

It’s two hours later when Stiles suddenly jumps and says, “Oh, crap, I have to go make dinner for my dad. If I don’t have it ready for him, he’ll try to order pizza, and pizza isn’t good for him. It was nice to meet you, Derek!”

Then he climbs in through the window, leaving Derek staring at where he’d been sitting, somewhat confused. He realizes too late that he should probably say something back, and slumps as he looks back down at his sketch, which he hasn’t made any progress on since Stiles came out the window. He’d meant to, but Stiles had distracted him, and Derek’s surprised to find he’s not upset about it. He doesn’t want to work on his sketch now, though, and he puts the sketchbook down on top of the pencil box and just stares at the wall opposite him.

Shortly after, he hears Laura calling his name, and grabs his things and climbs back in through his window, heading down to wash up and eat dinner.

Dinner’s quiet, as it always is, and then Derek heads up to his room again and changes into pajamas and lays down on his bed. It’s only nine, but it’s been a long day for all of them, and he knows he’s not the only one going to bed early.

He’s not surprised when twenty minutes later, there’s a soft knock on his door. He gets up and opens the door to see Cora standing there, looking somewhat upset. She was only nine at the time of the fire, but she was there, too, and sometimes Derek thinks a part of her never left. She’s woken both Laura and Derek up in the middle of the night, screaming herself awake from nightmares. The first couple months after the fire, Derek had laid on the floor in whatever room Cora ended up sleeping in, partially to reassure her and partially to remind himself that she was okay. Now, whenever she has nightmares or is scared at night, she seeks out Derek.

Derek lets her have the bed and pulls out the sleeping bag he’d unpacked just in case. He settles on the floor, and lays awake for a while, listening to Cora’s breathing even out as she falls asleep. Only when he’s sure that she’s really asleep does he actually let himself sleep.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

The next day, Derek’s up bright and early, and he heads out into the town in search of a job. Laura cautions him to be back by noon to make lunch for Cora, so he doesn’t have much time to find anything.

Miraculously, he does find a place hiring, and applies to be a cashier at a grocery store. The woman tells him they’ll call him by the end of the next week and sends him on his way. He’s home by ten, and finds Cora sitting on the floor in front of the TV, watching _Spongebob Squarepants_. She loves the show, so Derek doesn’t bother to stop her, and goes and takes a shower. When he’s done, he makes mac and cheese for him and Cora, then heads up to his room and climbs out onto the roof with his sketching stuff.

It’s _hot_ up there, but it’s shaded, and Derek had grabbed a water bottle, so he’s good as he starts to sketch. He’s still working on the old house, and determined to get it just right, and is so absorbed in it he doesn’t immediately notice when Stiles’s window opens and Stiles leans out.

“Jesus,” he hears, and looks up to see Stiles leaning out. He looks like he’s just woken up, with his hair sticking up everywhere, blinking sleepily at him.

“Hi,” Derek says.

“What are you doing up so early?” Stiles asks.

“It’s almost one,” Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Stiles says, grinning and climbing out onto his roof. “It’s summer, man, relax.”

Derek just rolls his eyes. Stiles lets out a breath and says, “Oh, no. Don’t tell me I’m going to have to teach you how to have fun. I’ll do it, don’t think I won’t. I’m a great teacher.”

Derek snorts, glancing up at Stiles, who’s grinning back at him.

Before either of them can say anything, there’s a shout from the ground.

“Hey, Hot Stuff!”

“Hello, Gorgeous!” Stiles calls down to the ground, and Derek glances down to see a blonde girl wearing a bikini top and short shorts. She’s grinning up at Stiles, and then spots Derek.

“Oh, new friend?” she says, a glint in her eye that makes Derek nervous.

“Derek, this is Erica,” Stiles says, gesturing to her. “Erica, this is Derek. Don’t scare him off, I actually happen to like him.”

“Aye, aye, chief,” Erica salutes him, then turns to Derek. Her grin is almost predatory, and Derek has the strange urge to hide behind Stiles. He settles for going back to his sketch.

“Anyway,” Erica says. “Stiles, Allison sent an invite out to the usual group to see if they wanted to go to the movies, but clearly you weren’t awake for it. Around six, wanna go see a movie? Derek can come, too, he’s cute.”

Derek blinks and looks up, feeling his face turn red. Stiles is looking at him with what looks like hope on his face, and Erica looks expectant.

“I’ll have to call my sister and make sure it’s okay,” Derek says, quietly. He waits for the inevitable ‘what about your parents?’ question, but it doesn’t come. Stiles just nods, so Derek climbs in through his window and grabs his phone, even though he already knows Laura’s going to say yes. She’s always pushing him to make friends. She’ll be thrilled for once he’s apparently succeeded.

“Hey, Derek, what’s up?” Laura answers immediately.

“Um,” Derek grimaces. “There’s a guy next door that I kind of met last night, our windows are sort of close together, and he’s invited me to the movies tonight with his friends? Around six? Is that okay?”

He hears Laura exhale and then she says, “How old is he?”

“Sixteen,” Derek says, and then feels the need to add, “His dad is the sheriff.”

“How many others are going?” Laura asks.

“I don’t know,” Derek says. “Two others for sure, a girl named Erica who lives across the street and someone named Allison?”

“Okay,” Laura says. “You can go, just be careful, okay? If you feel uncomfortable, call me and I’ll come pick you up.”

“I will,” Derek sighs.

“There’s money in an envelope on the fridge,” Laura says. “Take ten dollars, you can pay me back when you get a job, okay?”

“Okay,” Derek says. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Laura sounds somewhat surprised.

“Bye,” Derek says.

“Bye,” Laura replies, and Derek hangs up before heading back out the window.

“I can go,” he says to Stiles and Erica. “But I don’t have a car.”

“I can drive you,” Stiles waves his hand. “You’ll meet my baby.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. Stiles laughs and says, “My _Jeep_.”

“He’s ridiculously fond of it,” Erica says. Derek snorts.

“So you said the usual group,” Stiles says, looking down at Erica. “Does that mean Scott got the invite?”

“Yes,” Erica rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, you’d think we’d told him we’d run over his dog. Wait until you see the chat later, it’s _ridiculous_. Seriously, you have got to talk some sense into that boy. Make him ask Allison out or I swear.”

“I’m working on it,” Stiles grins. “Not all of us have the body and confidence of a supermodel, Erica.”

“Of course not,” Erica says, flipping her hair. “Now, this supermodel has to go meet her boyfriend. We’re --.”

“I don’t want to know!” Stiles says loudly. Derek blinks at him, but Stiles is laughing again, and Erica just sticks her tongue out at him, waves at Derek, and walks away.

“So that’s Erica,” Stiles says. “And believe it or not, she’s actually a lot nicer than she seems. As long as she likes you. I got on her good side a long time ago. She liked you, though, so I think we’re okay.”

Derek just shakes his head.

“Is it rude of me to ask what you’re drawing?” Stiles asks, switching topics without even blinking. Derek stares at him before shrugging.

“Just a house,” he says, forcing his voice to stay steady. “No, you can’t see it. I’m still working on it.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods, leaning back against the side of his house. He looks thoughtful. Derek doesn’t dare to try and guess at what’s going on in his head, and goes back to his drawing. He can’t get the front window right, and it’s frustrating him. He needs to make it perfect.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks a few minutes later, and Derek realizes he’s staring at the paper again, and he’s breathing heavily. He closes the sketchbook and groans, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. He’s been doing better, he hasn’t had a panic attack in three months, he wants to keep that record. He forces himself to breathe slowly.

“So,” Stiles says, clearly wanting to fill the silence. “How about I tell you about my group of friends? You met Erica, I told you about Boyd, Isaac, and Scott. There’s also Lydia, Allison, Jackson, and Danny. Lydia’s a genius, and she’s also beautiful, and she and Erica are terrifying when they’re together with a plan, so don’t get on her bad side, either. Allison’s kind of one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet, unless you make her angry, and then you’ll never see her coming. Jackson’s a dick who is occasionally a good person. Danny’s gay and also one of the nicest people ever.”

Derek snorts. “Sounds like an interesting group of people.”

“Oh, definitely,” Stiles says, then holds up one hand. “Stay right there. Actually, come over here. But wait one minute.”

Stiles climbs back into his room. He’s back on the roof before Derek can work out what he’d said, and waves Derek over to his roof. Derek obliges, putting his sketchbook and pencil box in his room again before climbing over to Stiles’s roof. Stiles opens his laptop and settles next to Derek.

“So, Jackson, Lydia, Allison, and Danny all live on other side of town,” Stiles says. “And some of us can’t afford big phone bills, so instead we use a chat room. There’s always something being talked about in there.”

It loads just then, and Stiles types his name in and hits enter.

 **Erica:** So everyone’s coming? Except Scott, that is?  
 **Scott:** Oh, sure, rub it in.  
 **Lydia:** Stiles, spill. Who is your new friend?

Stiles grins. “Sh, you’re not here. Let’s see what they say.”

Derek’s not sure he wants to know what they’re going to say, but he watches as Stiles types in a response.

 **Stiles:** His name is Derek. He’s our age, our grade, sketches, wakes up before noon, and has been to NYC.  
 **Erica:** He’s also hot as fuck.  
 **Stiles:** There’s that, too.

Derek feels himself turning red again. Stiles is still grinning, and wiggles his eyebrows when Derek looks at him.

 **Danny:** Send a picture.

Stiles snorts and turns to Derek. “You okay with me taking a picture?”

Derek shrugs. Stiles pulls out a phone and holds it up, taking a picture of Derek before typing something in. There’s a moment where no one in the chat says anything, and then:

 **Lydia:** He is hot. I approve.  
 **Danny:** Is he gay?

Stiles outright laughs and types back.

 **Stiles:** Calm yourself, Danny. I’m not answering that.  
 **Danny:** Because he is or because you don’t know?  
 **Stiles:** None of your business.

Derek is watching this conversation take place through his fingers, trying to hide his embarrassment. Stiles glances at him, then types again.

 **Stiles:** He is also sitting next to me reading all of this, just so you all know.  
 **Scott:** Ha! Nice! Hi, Derek!

Derek raises an eyebrow and looks at Stiles. “Uh, tell him hi?”

 **Stiles:** He says hi back.  
 **Stiles:** Also I’m going away now, see ya later.

Stiles closes the window before any of them can respond and says, “So, those are my friends.”

Derek just nods. He watches Stiles close his laptop and shove it back in his room before turning to Derek.

“This was fun, but I need food and to shower,” Stiles says. “And, I should make my dad something before we go out later. Meet me in front of my house at about five-fifteen, okay? Isaac will probably ride with us. Actually, wait, give me your number.”

Derek takes the phone from Stiles and programs it in before handing it back. He sighs and says, “I have unlimited calls, but not texts, and my phone doesn’t like picture messages.”

“Got it!” Stiles says, pretending to tip a hat at him before pushing himself around to crawl through his window. “See ya later!”

Derek climbs back over to his window and climbs inside, and stares back out it, wondering how the hell that had just happened.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

At five, Laura’s home and she’s watching Derek with something like pride in her eyes. It’s making Derek feel uncomfortable. Cora’s bouncing around the kitchen in excitement, because she and Laura are going out for ice cream while Derek’s at the movies. Derek’s pacing, because he’s a bit nervous. He doesn’t know what to expect from this, because he got along with Stiles, and did okay with Erica, but he’s not really a social person, and there are a lot more than just two people going to this movie. He doesn’t want to make Stiles’s friends not like him.

At five-ten, Derek turns to Laura and says, “I’m gonna go now.”

“Okay,” Laura says. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

Derek freezes. “I don’t know? I don’t even know what movie we’re seeing.”

Laura actually smiles. “How about you be home before eleven, okay? And if you don’t want to be there, call me?”

Derek nods and gives Cora a hug before walking out the door.

Stiles is standing on his lawn, looking like he’s about to explode. There’s a kid standing next to him, taller than Stiles, with curly light brown hair. He’s standing still, but looks faintly amused at Stiles’s antics. Derek can understand why.

“Hey!” Stiles says brightly as he walks up. “Who’s ready to go to the movies?”

Neither Derek nor the kid respond, which causes Stiles to look at them both incredulously before throwing his hands up. “I’m stuck with the least talkative of the group. Whose idea was this?”

The kid snorts. “You must be Derek.”

“You must be Isaac,” Derek says. The kid nods. Derek looks at Stiles, who gives him a grin.

“Come on, let’s go,” Stiles says, and leads them to a blue Jeep. Derek thinks it’s seen better days, but Stiles pats it lovingly as he walks around it. Derek raises his eyebrows and looks at Isaac, who just shrugs.

“We don’t understand it, either,” he says in an undertone. Derek snorts and climbs into the backseat.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Stiles talks the entire way to the movie theater. Derek finds this somewhat amusing, and doesn’t try to stop him. He follows Isaac and Stiles into the theater, where they immediately wave at small group of people and head towards them. Stiles grabs Derek’s arm and drags him with.

“Hey, guys!” Stiles says. Derek feels everyone’s eyes on him immediately, and forces himself not to blush. He looks around the group and wonders which one is which. Boyd has to be the one with an arm around Erica. That leaves the other four, and Derek has no idea which one is which.

“Okay, so that’s Boyd, and this is Lydia,” Stiles points to the redheaded girl. She gives him a smile, but her eyes have a critical look. Derek feels like he’s trying to pass a test.

“This is Allison.”

She gives him a real smile, and holds out a hand for Derek. He shakes it.

“This is Jackson,” Stiles gestures to the boy who has an arm around Lydia. Jackson just nods at him, so Derek nods back.

“And this is Danny,” Stiles taps the last boy on the shoulder. Danny smiles at Derek, and dimples appear on his cheeks. Derek just nods again.

“Everyone, this is Derek,” Stiles says grandly. Derek rolls his eyes, but waves awkwardly.

“Hello, Derek,” Lydia says, her eyes still looking him over.

“We decided on _Pacific Rim_ ,” Danny says to Stiles and Isaac. Stiles grins.

“Scott’s gonna be so pissed we saw it without him,” he says.

“Speaking of McCall,” Jackson says. “He isn’t here. So who is sitting next to Stiles?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lydia asks innocently. “Derek is.”

Derek blinks. “Uh, okay?”

Stiles is rolling his eyes, but Erica’s snickering. Allison takes pity on Derek and says, “Stiles talks a lot during movies. Usually Scott sits next to him because the rest of us would prefer to hear the movie.”

“Oh,” Derek says. “Okay.”

Stiles grins at him. “See? Derek’s a good friend. The rest of you suck.”

“You wish,” Lydia says teasingly, then turns and walks away, pulling Jackson with her. Stiles laughs and follows, so Derek does, too. The tickets are $9.50, which leaves Derek with fifty cents, but he doesn’t say anything as they head to the concessions. He’s not big on asking to borrow money.

Stiles and Jackson are arguing over what popcorn seasoning is best when Allison turns to Derek and says, “So, New York City?”

He’s taken off guard by the subject change, but he nods. “Yeah, we lived on Staten Island for a while.”

“That’s cool,” Allison says. “I’ve been there a couple of times. Did you ever get to see any shows on Broadway?”

“Um, no,” Derek shifts uncomfortably.

“That’s too bad,” Allison says. “I always love going to see shows on Broadway. Especially _Wicked_.”

“I want to see _Wicked_ ,” Erica says. “I love the soundtrack.”

Derek sighs slightly in relief as the conversation turns to musicals and the spotlight is taken off of him. He’s not asked for his input, and in fact isn’t even directly asked anything until Stiles turns to him and says, “You can get your snacks before me.”

“Oh,” Derek says, once again feeling uncomfortable. “I actually only had ten dollars?”

“Oh,” Stiles says. “Do you want anything? I don’t mind buying you something. You can pay me back another time.”

Derek wants to refuse, he really does, but Stiles looks hopeful, and the popcorn does smell really good, so he shrugs and says, “I could eat some popcorn.”

Stiles grins and orders a large popcorn and two large drinks. He hands one of the cups to Derek without waiting to see his reaction and then turns to fill his cup. Derek blinks, but follows. He has this feeling this is going to be a common theme in their relationship, if only because Derek gets caught off guard so often by Stiles.

He fills the cup up with Sprite and follows Stiles and the others into the dark theater. Derek’s seated in between Allison and Stiles, sitting in what is apparently Scott’s claimed seat. Derek remembers what Stiles and Erica had been saying earlier about Scott asking Allison out and pretends he’s not amused.

Derek doesn’t really know much about _Pacific Rim_ , and finds that he isn’t particularly impressed by the plot. He _is_ , however, amazed by the effects, although he’s not sure if that’s his own opinion or if Stiles’s constant stream of “Whoa! That was awesome!” and “Did you _see_ that?” convinced him of it. It’s probably a mixture of both.

Unsurprisingly, Stiles is still talking about the effects as they leave the theater, and head into the lobby. Derek listens, because Stiles knows way more about this subject than Derek does and it’s all interesting (Derek _is_ an artist, after all) and forgets they’re not alone. He’s startled when Lydia clears her throat to interrupt him.

“We heading to Zio’s?” she asks.

“Don’t we always?” Erica says, her gaze fixed on Derek, a knowing glint in them. He totally does _not_ edge behind Stiles. Nope. Not at all.

“Meet you guys there!” Stiles says, grabbing Derek and Isaac’s arms and pulling them behind him. Isaac rolls his eyes, and Derek focuses on not tripping. That would be embarrassing, and he’s been doing good so far.

“Zio’s?” Derek asks as Stiles starts the car.

“Pizza place,” Isaac explains. “We always meet up there. It’s the halfway point between our houses.”

Derek nods and curses his lack of money. He doesn’t know what to do as they walk inside, and just resolves to keep quiet as they head inside. The others had beat them there, and Lydia turns and asks for five dollars from everyone. Derek’s not blind, and spots Stiles handing two fives to Lydia instead of just one. He’s somewhat annoyed, but doesn’t say anything. He just thanks Stiles and eats a piece of pizza when it’s shoved at him. He’ll just repay Stiles when he can.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

It’s nearly ten when Derek gets home, and Laura’s asleep on the couch in the living room. Derek stands there and watches her for a few seconds, feeling horribly guilty. Then he steps into the living room and reaches out to touch her on the shoulder. She starts away and sits straight up before she realizes who he is.

“Oh,” she yawns. “Derek. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” Derek nods. He did have fun, and he’d told Stiles this on the way home. Isaac had left with Jackson and Danny, so it had been just Stiles and Derek. Stiles had seemed really anxious, and had brightened up when Derek had admitted to having fun.

“I’m glad,” he’d said. “We can be a bit much, but they all liked you.”

Which had been weird for Derek, because generally people avoided him. But he agreed to go out with them again soon, which had made Stiles light up with excitement. Derek had thanked Stiles for inviting him out, and then as they got out, Stiles had said, “We should talk again tomorrow? On the roof? I mean, I’ll probably sleep until one or something, but still.”

Derek had nodded, and headed into his house, ignoring the way his stomach had fluttered at Stiles’s suggestion.

Laura’s smiling at him, and she says, “I’m glad. I’ll have to meet some of these people soon.”

Derek shrugs. “Some of them live in the neighborhood. Stiles lives right next door.”

Laura nods. “You should introduce me sometime soon.”

Derek agrees and says good night. He heads up to his room and changes into pajamas. He lays down on his bed and stares at the ceiling and reviews the evening in his head. It had been nice, and he finds himself actually looking forward to the next time they hang out. He waits until he hears the knock on his door, opens it to let Cora in, then falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter the second, on Friday, as scheduled! Thank you guys so much for reading and kudos-ing and subscribing, it's amazing! I'm literally so happy you guys liked it!
> 
> Thanks again to my betas, [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale), [southerntamata](http://thirstyweeaboo.tumblr.com/), and [thelolunicorn](http://thelolunicorn.tumblr.com/) for all of their encouragement and beta skills, and thanks to everyone who's been reading!

“Derek! Wake up!”

Something hits Derek in the face and he groans, but opens his eyes. There’s a pillow sitting on his face, one that he distinctly remembers belonging to Cora. He shoves it off his face and blinks up at Cora, who is looking down at him with an impatient look on her face.

“What?” Derek asks, his mind struggling to wake up with the rest of him. He doesn’t think they had anything planned, and settles for looking really confused. Cora puts her hands on her hips.

“It’s raining,” she says grumpily.

“Oh,” Derek frowns, still not understanding. “I’m sorry?”

“We were supposed to ride our bikes today, remember?” Cora says, and Derek thinks it over and remembers promising her that he’d show her around today. He sighs.

“Well, we’ll just have to do it tomorrow,” Derek says. “ _If_ it’s not raining.”

Cora huffs in annoyance, until Derek offers to let her have control of the TV. She bounces down the stairs after that, and when Derek makes it to the living room, is sprawled out on the couch, taking up far more room than she could possibly need, watching what looks like _Harry Potter_.

It’s ten in the morning, later than Derek usually wakes, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the later-than-normal night or because of the rain. He sleeps best when there’s rain. It’s a soothing sound. He makes waffles and then heads up to his room and glares at his window. Clearly he won’t be sitting on the roof today.

When he looks out, however, he sees that Stiles’s window is open, and Stiles is leaning backwards out of it, his head pointed upward. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is wide open, like he’s trying to catch raindrops. Derek can’t resist and opens his window.

“I hope a bird poops in your mouth,” he calls over to him.

Stiles jumps and looks at Derek upside down. He grins and says, “So he _does_ have a sense of humor!”

“It shows up every now and then,” Derek says, leaning out and letting the rain hit his head. He always feels most comfortable when it’s raining. That had been true before the fire, but it’s easier to relax now when he hears the rain on the roof. Logically, he knows that there can still be fire if there’s rain, but the idea of water falling from the sky still comforts him.

Stiles turns over to face Derek right-side up. His hair is soaking wet, and plastered down to his forehead, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he opens his mouth. “Well, good. A sense of humor is very important.”

“I thought you didn’t get up before noon?” Derek raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t sleep when it’s raining,” Stiles says. “It makes me kind of hyper. My mom always wanted to run out and dance in the rain. I guess I never broke the habit.”

Stiles’s voice gets softer when he mentions his mom, and Derek feels a sympathetic pang run through him. In the two days that he’s known Stiles, he’s heard all about his dad, but this is only the second time he’s mentioned his mom. Derek has a feeling he knows why.

“I sleep better when it’s raining,” Derek says, deciding not to ask. He doesn’t like _his_ family being brought up; he doubts Stiles does, either.

Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Yeah, I bet you do. You probably like to sit in coffee shops when it’s raining and sketch. Or libraries. I bet you’ve read more books than anyone I know, except maybe Lydia. I bet you can sing, too.”

“Nope,” Derek says, feeling vaguely amused.

“Which one?” Stiles asks curiously.

“I can’t sing,” Derek says. Stiles blinks, then laughs.

“Well, damn, there goes one of my scenarios. Next best one: Are you a secret agent?”

Derek stares. “Am I a _what_?”

“Oh, nice cover,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. No worries here, Mr. Bond.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek says, though he can’t help but smile.

“Ha!” Stiles points at him triumphantly. “ _Finally_!”

Derek blinks, startled. “What?”

“Dude!” Stiles looks like he’s about to explode. “I finally made you smile! I’ve known you _two days_ and that’s the first time you’ve actually smiled. I feel like I should take a picture to immortalize this moment. A sense of humor _and_ a smile, dude, we are going to be best friends, this is going to happen. You are going to _love_ me.”

Derek raises both eyebrows this time and says, “If you say so.”

Stiles just grins. Derek fights the urge to smile back down and instead tilts his head back and closes his eyes, letting the rain fall on his face. The water is cool, and feels good as it runs down his cheeks. He really loves the rain.

When he opens his eyes again, Stiles is watching him with a strange look on his face, and when he sees Derek looking at him, quickly turns his gaze towards the ground. He looks somewhat embarrassed, but Derek doesn’t know why.

“So,” Stiles says several minutes later. “What are you doing today?”

“Staying in with my sister,” Derek says. “She’s eleven, and I promised her we’d ride our bikes today, but, well,” he gestures to the sky. Stiles nods thoughtfully. Derek’s not sure what he’s thinking about, and he’s not sure he wants to know. He waits for Stiles to speak.

“Think she’d be up for going to the library?” Stiles asks, looking back at Derek. “That is, if it’s okay for you guys to go out?”

Derek blinks in surprise. “She’d probably be up for it. I don’t know if Laura would be okay with it. I can call and ask?”

“Do it!” Stiles prompts. “I have to take a shower anyway. Meet back here in twenty minutes?”

Derek nods. Stiles gives him a thumbs up, shakes out his hair, and pulls his head back into his room. Derek does the same and watches Stiles close his window and walk away. He shuts his own window, then reaches for his phone and runs down the stairs.

“Hey, Cora,” he says. “Want to go to the library?”

“Yes,” Cora says immediately, turning to him. “But how are we going to get there?”

“Stiles invited us,” Derek says, before realizing that Cora’s never met Stiles. She doesn’t look upset though. If anything, she looks thrilled.

“Is Stiles your friend?” she asks excitedly. Derek nods.

Cora grins and says, “I can’t wait to meet him!”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone. Laura answers on the second ring and sounds somewhat stressed. Derek feels somewhat guilty for calling her at work two days in a row, but Laura sounds enthusiastic when she gives them permission to go. She tells Derek to get them both cards and to thank Stiles for her. Derek promises to do so and hangs up.

He’s still got fifteen minutes until he’d agreed to meet Stiles, so he tells Cora to get ready and hops in the shower himself. He uses the last five minutes trying to decide what to wear before just grabbing his black shirt and jeans and his jacket. Cora’s already dressed and is in the process of pulling her hair back, so Derek hurries to his window and sees Stiles standing at his own.

“Hey!” Stiles says as he opens his window. “What’s the verdict?”

“We can go,” Derek says. “My sister says thanks.”

“No problem,” Stiles waves a hand somewhat absently and then leans forward. “How long do you guys need?”

“We’re already ready,” Derek shrugs. Stiles grins.

“Meet you at my Jeep!” he says, then straightens up and closes his window. Derek follows his lead and grabs his art bag, his wallet, and his phone, and hurries out to the hallway.

“Cora!” he calls. She appears at her door, eyes wide. “Stiles is ready to take us. Are you ready?”

Cora nods and shuts her bedroom door. Derek grabs his keys off the kitchen table, and they head out the door.

Stiles is leaning against his Jeep, clearly unconcerned that it’s pouring rain. He’s drumming some sort of rhythm against his thighs and mouthing some lyrics, and doesn’t stop even as he notices them hurrying over.

“Hey!” he says as they get close enough. “This must be your sister?”

“Stiles, this is Cora,” Derek says. “Cora, this is Stiles.”

“Hi, Stiles!” Cora says brightly, and Stiles grins at her as he unlocks his Jeep. Derek opens the door for Cora and she climbs into the back. Derek sits in the passenger seat and tucks his art bag down at his feet, out of the way. Stiles turn the car on.

“Where exactly is the library?” Derek asks as Stiles turns down the street, the opposite way he’d gone the night before to the theater.

“You’ll see,” Stiles says, and shoots him a grin as he turns the corner.

It turns out the library is relatively close, which is a relief to Derek. It’s not as big as some libraries he’s seen, but it’s not small, either. There aren’t many people there, probably because of the rain, which is fine with Derek. He takes Cora to the front desk and signs them both up for cards before making her promise to stay inside the library and letting her head to the youth section.

“So what do you like to read?” Stiles follows Derek somewhat closely. Derek tries to ignore him as he heads to the fiction section. He scans the shelves and pulls out A Game of Thrones.

“Oh, nice!” Stiles comments, leaning against the shelves. “I’ve been meaning to read the series. I’ve seen the show, but I’ve heard the books are better. I don’t know what to believe, so I figured I find out for myself, but I’m in the middle of reading The Road.”

“I’ve read that,” Derek says. “It’s pretty good.”

“I know, right?” Stiles says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I love the post-apocalyptic genre. I used to have this dream of the zombie apocalypse, my friends and dad and I all got together and fought to survive. It’s kind of lame now, but I used think it was the coolest thing ever. I made my dad teach me how to shoot so I’d be prepared. I told him it was because I thought it was interesting, but I think he saw through me.”

Derek finds himself caught up in Stiles’s story again, and blinks in annoyance when he realizes he’s staring at Stiles’s lips. He turns to hide his blush and heads down to see if there are any copies of Fight Club.

Once he’s gathered his books, he finds a table and sits down, pulling out his sketchbook. Several minutes later, Stiles rejoins him, carrying three _Star Wars_ novels and looking somewhat amused. He doesn’t say anything, though, and just starts reading. Derek can’t concentrate on his drawing anyway, which frustrates him, so he looks up and says, “How long have you lived here?”

Stiles looks up, his expression somewhat surprised. “All my life.”

Derek nods. “We only lived on Staten Island for about six months. Before that we were in a small town in Pennsylvania. Before _that_ , we were in Nebraska, and before _that_ we were in Michigan. My family is originally from Southern California, though.”

Stiles looks confused. “Why did you move around so much?”

“My sister’s job takes us everywhere,” Derek says carefully. Stiles nods, looking thoughtful.

“You probably don’t want to travel much, then,” he says.

“I mean, I don’t mind it,” Derek shrugs. “But I’d like to find one place to call home and stay there.”

“I don’t blame you,” Stiles says. “I’ve never been outside of California, except once when I was really little. I don’t remember it. It was for some wedding, my mom’s cousin or something. I was two.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say next, but he can’t focus on his sketch, either, so he puts it down and pulls _Fight Club_ towards him. He’s only twenty pages in when someone bumps his shoulder and he turns to see Cora there, holding a stack of books.

“I’m done,” she announces.

“That’s a lot of books,” Stiles comments.

“I know,” Cora says. “I’m trying some new books.”

“Cool,” Stiles says. He looks at Derek. “We can go check them out and then maybe head back to your place, if that’s okay?”

“Sure,” Derek shrugs and gathers his stuff. They head to the counter and check out the books, then head back out to Stiles’s Jeep. He stops at a gas station on the way there and buys drinks for all of them, refusing to take no for an answer.

“It’s my treat,” Stiles says as he pulls a Monster off the shelf for himself. Derek sighs and goes along with it. Cora delightedly pulls a Pepsi off the shelf, and Derek grabs a Cherry Coke. Stiles pays for them and then drives back to their houses.

Derek feels weirdly self-conscious as he lets Stiles into his house. Cora has no such problem and immediately sits down on the couch, pulling out a book and stretching out to read.

“Wanna go up to my room?” Derek asks Stiles. He nods. “Cora, we’ll be upstairs if you need anything, okay?”

Cora doesn’t even look away from her book, just gives him a thumbs up. Derek rolls his eyes and leads Stiles to his room. He once again feels self-conscious as he turns on the light to reveal the emptiness of the room. Stiles doesn’t even seem to notice, just comes in and throws himself on the bed with a strange sort of familiarity. He grins up at Derek, who just rolls his eyes in response and puts his art bag down on the floor. Then he clears his throat.

“Uh, thanks. For taking us to the library, and buying us drinks. And, you know, welcoming us.”

Stiles studies him for a few seconds before saying, “No problem. Can I see your sketch now?”

“No,” Derek shakes his head. “It’s not finished.”

“Will I get to see it when it’s finished?” Stiles sits up.

“Maybe,” Derek says, then mutters, “if I ever finish it.”

Either Stiles doesn’t hear that or ignores it, because he doesn’t respond. Instead, he flops back down on the bed and groans. “Man, school starts in a month. I can’t believe it. You are going to Beacon Hills High, right?”

Derek nods. “We’re going to go register on Monday. Laura has to be there, so we have to wait until she can get off early enough to.”

Stiles nods. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and end up in the same classes. Although from what I can tell you’re probably going to take Art as an elective and holy _shit_ , I suck at art.”

Derek snorts. “I _should_ take Art. Is that considering cheating?”

“Well, Allison takes French and she’s lived in Paris,” Stiles shrugs. “So probably, but who cares? If anything it’ll be an easy class.”

Derek nods. He doubts it’ll be easy, art can be _really_ hard even for the most talented artists, but at least it’s something he enjoys. He sits down and pulls out his sketchbook, opening the sketch of the house again and staring at it as Stiles starts to hum.

Derek looks up after a few minutes and sees Stiles lying on his back, his knees bent and holding one of the _Star Wars_ novels he’d checked out up above his head. He’s still humming and is tapping his foot as he reads. He seems totally relaxed.

Derek watches him for a few more minutes, then looks back down at his sketchbook. He’s determined to finish the sketch of the house, but…

He flips to the next page and looks up again. Stiles is still in the same position, and Derek looks down at his paper and starts with Stiles’s face. This sketch comes surprisingly easy, considering it’s the first one he’s worked on besides the old house in a year. He’s so focused on the sketch that he lets out a shout when Stiles suddenly sits up straight.

“Shit!” he says. “I forgot -- my dad’s going to be home early and I promised Danny I’d go with him to get new gloves. For lacrosse, you know, he’s our goalie. Anyway, my dad’s gonna be home in like twenty minutes and I was gonna have dinner ready. Thanks for letting me invade your room!”

Then he’s out the door. Derek stares and then jumps up, because he didn’t get a chance to goodbye, but Stiles is already out the front door and halfway across the lawn when Derek gets outside. Stiles stops at his door and spots Derek, who waves. Stiles grins and waves back before opening his door and disappearing into the house. Derek goes back into his own house and stops in the living room.

Cora’s not there, so he heads up the stairs and sees his bedroom door is still open. Cora’s standing in there, and she’s bending down over something, and Derek feels his stomach sink as he hurries in.

She’s looking at his sketchbook, which is on the floor next to where he’d been sitting, open to his drawing of Stiles stretched out on his bed. She looks up at him, and grins.

“This is an interesting picture,” she says, far too casually.

“So?” Derek tries to be nonchalant, but he’s panicking and he’s not a good liar. He doesn’t even know why he’d decided to sketch Stiles, but it feels important, and private. He’s somewhat angry that Cora’s looking in his sketchbook, but then Cora flashes her big brown eyes at him ( _Mom’s_ eyes) and he can’t be angry at her. He never can be.

“So do you _like_ him?” Cora asks as she hands him his sketchbook.

“ _No_ ,” Derek says, maybe too quickly and defensively. “It’s been maybe three days. I barely know him.”

“So?” Cora shrugs. “Remember --,” she hesitates, then says, “Remember when Mom and Dad told us about how they met? They said they knew right away.”

Derek swallows, because it _hurts_ to hear about his parents, but he shrugs. “We’re _friends_. I needed something new to draw, and he was right there.”

“Right,” Cora says with far too much sarcasm for Derek’s liking. “That’s why it’s so detailed. Because _friends_.”

“Don’t you have some books to go read?” Derek asks, playfully nudging her shoulder.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to go draw?” Cora asks sweetly, and then sprints out of the room. Derek can hear her laughing as she goes down the stairs, and can’t help but smile himself. A part of him loves it when Cora teases him. It feels normal.

He hears the front door open moments later, and Laura calls out, “Hello?”

“Hi!” Cora says, and Derek heads down to the living room. Laura’s in the process of putting her umbrella away and smiles at Derek as he comes in.

“Hey,” she says. “How was the library?”

“It was fine,” Derek says.

“Stiles is _awesome_ ,” Cora pipes up. “He reads _Star Wars_ books and has a really cool Jeep and bought us drinks on the way home as a treat. And guess what? Derek _likes_ him.”

“Cora,” Derek groans. She gives him an unimpressed look and then grins at Laura.

“Derek sketched him,” Cora says. “A _good_ sketch. While Stiles was reading on his bed. He likes him.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I _do not_. I was just looking for something new to sketch, and he was right there.”

Laura’s giving him a strange look, which doesn’t bode well for Derek’s near future. He senses a chat sometime soon and bites back another groan.

She waits until after dinner. Derek escapes to his room as she talks Cora into doing the dishes, and is almost ready to fake sleeping when she knocks on his door.

“No,” Derek says.

“I’m coming in anyway!” Laura says, and opens the door. Derek gives her a flat look, but can’t hold it for long. He sighs and flops back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He can’t avoid it, so he might as well just get it over with.

“So,” Laura says. “Stiles. You’re going to introduce me tomorrow, right?”

“I was kind of hoping you’d forget his name, actually,” Derek says.

“How did you meet him, again?” Laura asks. Derek takes a second to consider his choices, then sits up and goes to the window and looks to see if Stiles is there. He isn’t, so Derek gestures Laura over and points.

“That’s his window,” he says. “I was out on the roof the first day we were here, and he climbed out on his roof and just started talking to me. And he _never shut up_. And then he climbed out again the next day, and his friend Erica from across the street came over, and somehow I got invited to the movies, and I sat next to him and he bought me popcorn and soda, and this morning I looked out the window and he was just leaning backwards out the window catching rain in his mouth, like that’s something that normal people do,” Derek cuts himself off when he realizes how ridiculous he sounds and throws his hands up in frustration.

Laura’s expression is somewhat amused, and maybe a little bit relieved, and she sits down on Derek’s bed. Derek sits down next to her.

“You drew him?” Laura asks. Derek shrugs. “Can I see?”

Derek hesitates, because it’s _private_. But Laura’s never met Stiles, and she’s not going to tell him, and besides, he’s kind of proud of it. He gets his sketchbook off the floor where he’d left it and flips it open to the picture of Stiles before handing it to Laura.

Laura’s quiet as she looks at it. She knows the rules of looking at Derek’s sketches, and doesn’t touch anything except the edges. She studies it for a moment, then says, “Is this what he really looks like?”

Derek looks at the picture. It’s as accurate as he could make it. He’s even got the little sliver of stomach that was showing when Stiles’s shirt rode up. He nods wordlessly.

Laura looks at it again, then says, “He’s cute.”

Derek just nods again. He knows. He’d noticed the first time he’d seen Stiles. He has amazing brown eyes and ridiculous hair, and his hands should be illegal. And his _mouth_ \--

Derek maybe needs to stop thinking about that with his sister right next to him. Instead, he just stares at the floor. He hears his sister turning the page backwards and doesn’t stop her. She’s the only one who knows what’s there in the rest of the sketchbook, and she’s the only one who will ever know.

“You didn’t finish it?” Laura asks quietly, and Derek glances to see the house.

“No,” he says. “I _can’t_. I don’t know why I can’t, but I can’t. Every time I go to work on it, I get stuck. This is the first picture I’ve been able to finish since --.”

Laura just nods. She remembers. Derek’s been drawing for as long as he can remember. He’s not very good with words, and drawing helps him express what he can’t always say. So often times, his therapists had given him paper and pencils and told him to sketch whatever he wanted to. Directly after the fire, it had been nothing but flames (he’d felt numb, like he was just in a dream). It had developed into pictures of various family members burning (he’d been _so angry_ , and he and Cora had set each off a lot during that time), then to himself as a monster (he’d felt _guilty_ , he could have saved some of them, why didn’t he). Then, a year ago, he’d started working on the sketch of the old house. It had to be _perfect_ , and every time Derek messed it up, he ripped it out and started again. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried. So drawing something else? Is actually a big deal.

Laura knows this, and she puts the sketchbook down carefully before hugging Derek tightly. Derek lets her, and even hugs her back. They just hold each other for a few moments, until the doorbell rings and Cora yells, “There’s someone at the door!”

“Yes, thank you, Cora, we can hear that!” Laura yells back. Derek snorts and lets go of her before putting the sketchbook down on his bed. He follows Laura out of his room and down the stairs to the living room. Cora’s at the door, trying to look through the peephole, but she’s too short. Derek pulls her away from the door so Laura can open the door.

There’s a man standing there, his hands in his jacket pockets. He looks vaguely familiar, although Derek can’t figure out why. He looks at them and smiles.

“Hi. I’m John Stilinski,” he says, and Derek realizes with a jolt that he’s _Stiles’s father_.

Well, he can certainly see the resemblance.

“Laura Hale,” Derek’s sister moves forward, holding her hand out.

“Nice to meet you, Laura,” John says. “I live just next door,” he gestures to the side, and Laura looks like a light bulb has gone on.

“Stiles’s father?” Laura glances sideways at Derek. He shrugs, even though he’s already sure of it.

John lets out a sigh. “Why am I not surprised you’ve already met Stiles? Yes, he’s my son.”

“He’s made quite an impression,” Laura says, and Derek glares at her.

“Yeah, he does that,” John agrees. He looks at Derek and says, “You must be the Derek I’ve heard about, then.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “Uh, yeah? I mean, yes, I’m Derek.”

John inspects him before nodding and turns back to Laura. “Well, I just wanted to come by and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“You’re the sheriff, right?” Cora speaks up. John looks at her. He smiles and nods.

“I am,” he says. “Stiles mentioned that?”

Cora nods. “He took me and Derek to the library today.”

“So you’re Cora,” John nods. “I heard all about that. Apparently he approves of your taste in books.”

“Really?” Cora says. “I approve of his Jeep.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that,” John laughs. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you this late, but I thought I’d better meet our new neighbors sooner rather than later. So welcome to the neighborhood, and if you need anything, feel free to ask.”

Laura thanks John, who then leaves. Derek stares at the door and Cora giggles.

“He _talked_ about you,” Laura says.

“I’m going to bed,” Derek announces. Laura and Cora both laugh, which makes Derek scowl as he walks up the stairs, but when he gets to his room and sees the sketch of Stiles sitting on his bed, he can’t keep it up. He picks up the sketchbook and closes it before putting it down on the bedside table. He falls backwards onto his bed and covers his face with his hands, letting out a long groan.

He’s so screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize it was Friday until twenty minutes ago. Jesus Christ.
> 
> Chapter three! Hooray!
> 
> Beta'd by [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale), [southerntamata](http://thirstyweeaboo.tumblr.com/), and [thelolunicorn](http://thelolunicorn.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> My [tumblr](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/)!

Derek wakes up earlier than he’d expected and stares at the ceiling for a few minutes before his bladder announces its presence. He gets up and goes to the bathroom, then heads down to the living room. Laura’s in the kitchen, and she seems to be in a fairly good mood. She smiles at Derek, then says, “Got any plans with Stiles today?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “No.”

“Gonna go sit out on the roof and wait for him?” Laura teases.

Derek pretends his cheeks aren’t turning red and sticks his head in the fridge to hide it while he pours himself a glass of milk. Because _yeah_ , that’s exactly what Derek had been planning to do, as long as it’s dry out there. He’d been planning on taking one of his books and his art bag out there and sitting on the roof until Stiles decided to appear. If Stiles decided to appear. He really wishes he could text him, but he doesn’t have the money to add the minutes. He also doesn’t have a computer, so he can’t join the chat or send him any messages that way. He could just call him, but he doesn’t think Stiles will answer this early and doesn’t want to annoy him.

“If you guys want to do something with him, as long as it’s legal, in town, safe, and cheap, the answer is yes,” Laura says. “Just leave me a voicemail, I’m not going to be able to answer today. Here’s twenty dollars, be careful okay?”

“Okay,” Derek nods, staring in surprise. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Laura says. She leaves a few minutes later, and Derek sits down in front of the TV to wait for Cora to wake up. Once she’s up, he makes sure she eats something and has something to occupy her before heading up to his room and checking the roof.

It’s mostly dry, to his surprise, and he picks up a small blanket to spread out before picking up A Game of Thrones, his art bag, and two water bottles and climbs out the window carefully. He spreads the blanket and sits down on it. He starts to read. He goes inside once to make sandwiches for himself and Cora, and takes his own back on the roof.

It’s just before one when he hears Stiles’s window open, and Stiles’s voice says, “I seriously don’t understand how you can be awake so early.”

“I seriously don’t understand how you can sleep in so late,” Derek doesn’t even look up from his book, although he really wants to. He really, _really_ wants to.

“Easy,” Stiles says. “I was up until three playing _Halo_. Next question.”

“Why am I not surprised you play _Halo_?” Derek deadpans.

“I feel like I was just insulted,” Stiles says, and Derek hears him climbing out on the roof. “Did you just insult me?”

“No,” Derek says, and he finally looks up. Stiles’s hair is sticking up in every direction, and he’s rubbing at his eyes sleepily. He’s still wearing pajamas and doesn’t even have his shoes on. Derek feels a weird sort of warmth at the fact that Stiles literally came to talk to him before doing anything else when he woke up.

Oh, yeah, he’s _so screwed._

“I hear you met my dad last night,” Stiles says through a yawn, and Derek blinks before nodding.

“Yeah,” he says. “He was nice.”

“That’s my dad,” Stiles says, and Derek thinks he sounds a little proud. “He cares about the community. But that means you’ve met my parent and/or guardian, so when do I get to meet yours?”

Derek smirks into his book. “Well, Laura wants to meet you, so maybe tonight?”

“Sure,” Stiles says. “Just call me whenever. I’ll be right over. Or, I’ll try to be. My dad works the night shift tonight, so.”

Stiles doesn’t sound very happy about that. Derek thinks Stiles seems like the kind of person who gets very protective of people. He’s likely protective of his dad. Derek knows the feeling.

Stiles goes back into his room to change clothes and grab his laptop. He comes back out minutes later, his hair still sticking up every which way possible and then makes it worse by running his hand through it. He opens his laptop and says, “Dude, Lydia’s demanding you come out with us again.”

Derek blinks in surprise and says, “Why?”

“I think she’s decided to adopt you,” Stiles shrugs. “Something about ‘ _he looked like a lost puppy_.’ I’ll pray for you.”

Derek gives him a dirty look. Stiles just smiles back, then turns on some music before going quiet, his hands flying across his keyboard again. Derek watches him for a few moments, then pulls out his sketchbook.

It’s nearly four-thirty when Stiles suddenly says, “I’ll be right back,” and climbs back into his house. He comes back nearly ten minutes later, looking somewhat irritated, and sits on his roof, just staring for a few minutes, before he looks up and says, “Is it okay if we just go in your house for a while?”

Derek blinks, but nods. “Sure.”

Stiles sighs in relief and hands his laptop and its charger across the gap to Derek, then climbs across. He goes directly in through Derek’s window, taking his laptop without waiting for Derek, and is laying sideways on the bed when Derek finally makes it in through the window, having struggled with the blanket. Derek puts his stuff down on the floor and looks at Stiles. Derek’s pretty sure he wants to talk, so he lays down next to Stiles, and waits.

“It’s not like I don’t like that my dad’s sheriff,” Stiles says after a few minutes of silence. Derek turns his head to look at Stiles, who is staring at the ceiling. “I’m proud of his job. It makes him happy and he’s good at it. I just -- I worry about him, you know? It’s just me and him now, and -- I can’t lose him, too. I can’t do that. I _hate_ when he’s on night shift.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say. He understands completely -- Laura and Cora are all he has left, and without them he doesn’t know what he’d do. But he’s not good with words. So he just nudges Stiles’s shoulder with his own.

“Sorry,” Stiles says abruptly. “I didn’t mean to bring that all on you right now. I’m sure you’ve got other things to worry about.”

“It’s okay,” Derek says quietly. “I really don’t mind.”

Stiles turns his head to look at Derek, his eyes wide. Their faces are _inches_ apart. Derek can see gold flecks in Stiles’s brown eyes, can see all of his eyelashes, all of his freckles, and feels the urge to lean forward and --

Both of them jump when there’s suddenly a knock on the door.

“Derek!” Cora’s voice yells. “I know Stiles is in there! Laura says she’s going to be home in ten minutes, and she would like you to cook!”

Derek clears his throat and yells back, “Okay!”

“I, uh, I can leave,” Stiles says, sitting up. Derek sits up with him, shaking his head.

“No, stay,” he says. “Laura wants to meet you, anyway.”

Stiles nods and follows him out of his room. Cora’s at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips and says, “Hi, Stiles!”

“Hi, Cora,” Stiles grins at her. Derek heads down the stairs and can hear them talking about _Harry Potter_. It’s Cora’s current obsession, and Derek’s grateful _someone_ is talking to her about it, because he doesn’t have the patience for anymore talk about Hogwarts. He loves the series, he does, but he does not want to talk about it all the time.

He listens to Stiles and Cora talk about the what classes they would want to take at Hogwarts as he gets the ingredients for beef stew out. He’s just putting the vegetables in with the beef when he hears the door open. Stiles wanders into the kitchen as Cora goes to greet Laura, and Derek pretends he isn’t relieved that he’s in the room when Laura and Stiles first meet.

Laura and Cora come into the kitchen after a few moments, and Derek can feel Laura staring at him. Then, she says, “You must be Stiles.”

“That’s me,” Stiles says. “Laura, right?”

“Yeah,” Laura says. “Good to finally meet you. Thanks for helping Derek entertain this one,” Laura ruffles Cora’s hair. Cora makes an annoyed noise but doesn’t move away.

“I didn’t really do much, but you’re welcome,” Stiles grins.

Stiles ends up staying in the kitchen while Derek finishes cooking, and keeps Derek entertained. He’s sat on the counter, telling Derek his plan for the zombie apocalypse and then switching to stories about school. By the time he’s done cooking, Derek’s pretty sure he’s heard Stiles and Scott’s entire detention record and is starting to question his taste in friends.

Stiles leans over, nudges him in the ribs, and says, “At least I have you this year to keep me on track, right?”

Derek snorts. “Right. Somehow I don’t think I’ll be able to reign you in.”

Stiles laughs. “Well, you could try,” he winks and Derek momentarily forgets what he’s doing. Stiles grabs the plates from Derek and turns to go into the dining room. Derek’s left standing in the middle of the kitchen, trying _so very hard_ to turn his eyes away from Stiles.

He knows he’s failed when Laura suddenly laughs in his ear, causing him to jump. He turns to look at her, and she’s grinning somewhat mischievously. Derek is suddenly nervous.

“You’ve got it _bad_ ,” she whispers. “How long have you known him?”

Derek glares at her and grabs the pot of stew off the stove. He carries it out and sets it on the table.

Dinner is much livelier than usual, thanks to Stiles. He asks Laura about her job, and listens intently when she answers, then gets into a heated debate with Cora over which Avenger is the best. Stiles thinks Iron Man -- “Come on, he’s a _genius inventor_ with a _super suit_. What more do you want?” -- whereas Cora thinks it’s Captain America -- “He was bullied and small and now kicks ass --” “Cora!” “Sorry, Laura, he kicks _butt_.”

Derek doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation, because he’s sitting next to Stiles, who is animated and waving his arms around. He tries not to stare, but _damn_ , Stiles isn’t making it easy.

Once dinner is done, Laura goes to wash the dishes, and Derek, Stiles, and Cora head into the living room to watch TV. Stiles sits next to Derek on the couch and is sitting so close to him that Derek can literally feel the heat from his body.

Cora starts yawning after the second episode of _The Walking Dead_ , so Laura calls it a night and tells them to go to bed. Stiles glances at Derek like he’s unsure what to do, and Derek clears his throat.

“Is it okay if Stiles stays over?” he asks. Laura raises an eyebrow, but nods. He leads Stiles up to his room. Derek stops Cora as she goes past and mutters, “Are you gonna be okay?”

Cora widens her eyes and looks at him, then at her room. “I think so?”

“If you aren’t, you can come get me up, okay?” Derek says. Cora nods, then leans forward and hugs him. Derek hugs her back, and then watches her go into her room. She doesn’t close the door all the way, so Derek follows her lead and leaves it open a crack. Then he turns. Stiles is sitting on the bed, staring at Derek.

“Hey, uh,” he clears his throat. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

Derek blinks. “No problem.”

“It’s stupid, I know, but I hate being alone in our house,” Stiles sighs, and he looks tired. “It’s too quiet and it freaks me out. I don’t do well with quiet, and I worry about my dad, and it just makes it worse.”

Derek nods and sits down next to Stiles. “That’s not stupid.”

“Well, it feels like it is,” Stiles sighs, then runs a hand through his hair. “ _Dude_ , I’m so tired. Why am I so tired?”

“Probably because you were up until three playing _Halo_ ,” Derek deadpans. Stiles grins.

“Yeah, well, it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last,” Stiles says. “Tomorrow Scott comes home. We’re always up all night.”

Somehow Derek isn’t surprised. He rolls his eyes and changes into pajamas. When he turns around, Stiles is intently staring at the ceiling, like he’s determined to memorize it. Derek just raises an eyebrow.

“Do you need any pajamas or anything?” Derek asks. Stiles shakes his head and sits up.

“I can go get my own,” he says and opens Derek’s window, climbing out. He’s back five minutes later, and he’s got his own pillow with him. Derek stares at it.

“I can’t sleep without my pillow,” Stiles says apologetically. Derek shrugs.

Derek sets up his usual sleeping bag on the floor and turns the light off. He stretches out on the sleeping bag. Stiles is laying on his bed, and for a few seconds, Derek thinks he’s already gone to sleep, but then Stiles rolls over and looks at Derek and says, “What do you draw?”

Derek looks at him for a second before opening his mouth. “Whatever’s in my head? I mean, I’m not that great at talking. So I draw to get what I’m trying to say out. My therapist used to say I drew to release my demons.”

Then he freezes, because he hadn’t meant to be that honest with Stiles, but Stiles doesn’t even blink. Instead, he nods, and lays back down. “Wish I could draw.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes, and just as Derek is starting to drift off, Stiles says, “Think you’ll ever let me look at your drawings?”

“I don’t know,” Derek mumbles. “Laura’s the only one I show on a regular basis. Cora sees some of them.” _Or at least she used to, before they started setting her off_.

“Huh,” Stiles says around a yawn. “So I guess I’ll just have to get you trust me. It’ll happen. I am loveable.”

“So you keep telling me,” Derek says, his eyes closed. Stiles doesn’t reply, and when Derek opens his eyes to check, he sees Stiles’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing deeply. Derek watches him for a few more seconds before laying his head back down. He stares at the ceiling before closing his eyes and going to sleep.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek’s awake at eight, which is later than he usually sleeps. He’s not at all surprised to find Cora curled up against his side. Stiles is still asleep, too, on his back, looking peaceful. Derek wonders if it would be rude to wake him up early and is just thinking he’ll do it anyway when a phone starts ringing.

Stiles groans and pulls his phone off of the bed next to him, answering it with a very groggy, “‘Lo? No, I’m not at home.”

Cora opens her eyes. She sees Derek looking at her and gives him a sheepish look, but he just shrugs. He sees Stiles sit up, rubbing at his eyes. His hair is _ridiculous_ , standing up in more directions than should be possible.

“No, I’m close to home,” Stiles says, and Derek raises an eyebrow. “I’m next door. Derek’s. Yeah, I can bring him, I think. Give me like a half an hour, dude, I’m not usually awake yet.”

Stiles hangs up right then and runs a hand through his hair, making it somehow worse. Derek’s distracted for a few seconds before he realizes Stiles is asking him a question.

“What?” he says, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Dude,” Stiles says. “Don’t do that. You look like a kicked puppy. Stop it.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. Stiles grins. “Much better. You have a talent for judging people with your eyebrows. It’s impressive. And slightly frightening.”

Cora laughs. Derek rolls his eyes.

“Anyway,” Stiles says, but he’s still grinning. “Scott’s back in town and wants me to come over like right now. And he wants me to bring you. He lives just down the street, like we could see it from your porch.”

Derek stifles a yawn and gets up. “I’ll go ask Laura.”

Laura has no problem with it, and _beams_ at Derek as he leaves the room. He can feel his ears burning red and stops outside of his room to get it under control. Once he’s sure they’re no longer red, he heads into his bedroom. Stiles is laying on Derek’s bed again, and is half-asleep. Cora’s nowhere to be found.

Derek walks over and pokes Stiles in the side. Stiles yelps and jerks away, and Derek blinks. He looks at his hand, then at Stiles, who looks mortified.

“I will deny everything,” he says. “That did not happen. I am _not_ ticklish, you forget that you witnessed that.”

Derek covers his mouth with his hand before he lets out the laugh. Once he’s sure he’s under control, he drops his hand and says, “I can go.”

“Oh, cool!” Stiles seems to forget his embarrassment (how does he do that so fast?) and sits up straight. “Okay! I’m gonna go shower, and grab something to eat, and check in with my dad. Meet me in front of my house in like twenty minutes?”

Derek nods and opens the window for Stiles. He climbs out and across to his own roof and in his window. Derek shuts the window, and leans against the wall, and looks at the ceiling. He is so unbelievably screwed.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Scott, it turns out, is dorky and adorable, and not at all what Derek had been expecting in Stiles’s best friend. He’d been expecting loud, obnoxious, and fast talking. Scott _is_ loud and obnoxious, but he talks a lot less than Stiles. He’s less flaily, quieter, and extremely friendly. He’s also excitable and enthusiastic, and greets Derek like they’re long-lost friends reuniting.

Derek decides he likes Scott.

“So you draw?” Scott asks as he’s grabbing sodas from the fridge for all three of them. Derek nods. “That’s so cool. What do you draw?”

Derek shrugs. Stiles glances at him with a confused look and then says, “He won’t show anyone.”

“Aw, why not?” Scott asks, passing the can to Derek.

“They’re private,” Derek says.

“He only lets his sisters see them,” Stiles says to Scott. “I keep telling him he’s gonna love me. It’s a work in progress. It took two days to get him to smile. _Two days_.”

“Maybe you’re just not as funny as you think you are,” Scott suggests, grinning at Derek.

Yeah, Derek thinks he’s going to get along with Scott just fine.

They spend the day playing video games and generally messing around. Derek learns that Scott and Stiles met when they were four and have been best friends ever since. It explains how comfortable they are with each other. They’re sitting on the same cushion on the couch, and keep shoving at each other’s shoulders, trying to distract the other from winning the battle they’re fighting. Derek tries not to feel left out, and does a miserable job of it. He’s about to excuse himself when suddenly Stiles dramatically throws his body across the couch, his head on Scott’s right leg and his legs in Derek’s lap.

“Much better,” he says, grinning at Derek.

“Better to distract you, you mean,” Scott says and starts to shove Stiles off of the couch. He gives Derek a look, and Derek gets the message, pushing Stiles’s legs off of his lap to the floor. Stiles falls to the floor and drops his controller. Scott crows in victory as his character beats Stiles’s.

“Betrayal!” Stiles yells over Scott’s celebration. “Rematch!”

“No way!” Scott replies, and lets out a shout when Stiles suddenly tackles him off the couch. Derek pulls his legs up out of the way, and tries to control his laughter as he watches them roll around on the floor. This he doesn’t mind being left out of. It’s amusing to watch anyway.

Suddenly Derek hears Blink-182 coming from the chair, and Scott freezes where he’s pinned down by Stiles and says, “Time out!”

“Surrender!” Stiles says.

“Who is it?” Scott asks Derek, who leans over and picks up the phone. He looks at the caller ID.

“Allison,” he announces.

Scott starts struggling underneath Stiles and yells, “Dude!”

“Surrender!” Stiles repeats, giving Derek a grin. “Or we could have Derek answer.”

Derek gives him a flat look. Scott snickers and says, “Nice try. Get off me, dude, I haven’t seen her in two weeks, either.”

Stiles sighs and lets Scott up. Scott grabs for the phone in Derek’s hand and answers it. His eyes immediately go wide and his expression lovesick. Derek doesn’t know what to do with it.

Stiles sits down next to Derek and says, “We call that the Allison Effect. Isn’t it ridiculous?”

Derek covers his mouth again. It _is_ ridiculous, which is exactly what he’d been thinking. He remembers Erica saying something about him needing to ask her out. He wonders how that’s going.

Not well, if the conversation is anything to go by. Scott seems to be tripping over every word and glares at Stiles every time he catches him laughing. Derek forces himself to keep a straight face, because he knows what it’s like to be unable to say what you want to.

When Scott hangs up, he lets out a sigh and falls onto the couch next to Derek. Stiles leans across Derek and pats Scott on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, man, you’ll get the courage eventually.”

Scott just groans.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek gets a call on Tuesday, while he’s sitting on the roof sketching another picture of Stiles. Stiles is on his own roof, reading some sort of article on his laptop, but he looks up when Derek answers his phone.

It’s the grocery store he’d applied at, scheduling an interview. He has to go in the next day at nine in the morning. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get there, but he agrees anyway. Then he hangs up and stares at the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asks.

“I have a job interview tomorrow morning at nine,” Derek answers.

“That’s awesome!” Stiles says. “Why do you look like you’re upset?”

“I don’t have a way to get there,” Derek drops his head into his hands. “I rode my bike last time, but it’s an interview, so I have to dress up, right? I can’t ride my bike in those clothes. And it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”

“Dude, don’t even worry about it,” Stiles says, waving a hand. “I can take you. No big deal.”

“I -- what?” Derek looks up, surprised. “But --.”

“Dude, it’s totally cool,” Stiles shrugs. “Besides, I could use an excuse to get out of the house. I am _so bored_. I’m literally looking up ways to cure boredom, _that_ is how bored I am.”

Derek snorts and shakes his head. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Stiles says, leaning forward. “You know how you can repay me? Cure my boredom. I beg you. I don’t care how. Just please.”

That’s how they end up playing the Game of Life on the floor in Derek’s bedroom. Stiles narrates and creates backstories for everything the entire time. Derek loses, but doesn’t care much. They go from Life to chess, and Stiles quotes _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ the entire time and is so distracted trying to reenact the scenes that Derek beats him.

Stiles has to leave then, because his dad is going to be home soon, but makes Derek promise a rematch and reminds him that he’s going to drive him the next day. Derek nods and watches Stiles climb back before closing his window and joining Cora in the living room for a _Star Trek_ marathon.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek wakes up early the next morning slightly panicked, unsure what to wear and what to say and what to do for this interview. He pulls out nearly everything he owns and annoys Cora so much she heads back to her own room. He’s still trying to decide when there’s a knock on his window, and Stiles is perched out on his roof, pressing his face against the window.

Stiles talks him into a pair of slacks and a nice blue shirt before telling him to calm down, and then pats him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, dude, just calm down.”

Derek takes a deep breath and nods. “I look okay?”

“You look fine,” Stiles says, and then looks around the room. “You should grab something to change into. I plan on going to breakfast afterwards.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, but grabs a pair of shorts and a shirt, then his art bag, and follows Stiles out the door. Erica’s out on her lawn, and waves at them as they climb into the Jeep. Derek waves back, trying to talk his stomach into calming down. He hates doing interviews. He hates being on the spot. It makes him feel sick and panicky. It always has.

Stiles walks in with him, chattering away about the episode of _Doctor Who_ he’d seen the night before, and wishes Derek good luck as he walks into the room he knows he’s supposed to go to. He swallows hard.

There’s a woman standing there, and she smiles as he walks in. “Derek Hale?”

He nods and tries to unstick his tongue. “That’s me,” he manages.

“Welcome,” the woman says. “My name is Jaimie. I’m the day manager.”

She holds her hand out. Derek shakes it and nods again. She leads him to a smaller room and starts to ask him questions. They’re easy questions, and Derek answers them without difficulty. It goes moderately well, and though Derek still wants to throw up as he leaves the room, he doesn’t feel like he’s going to panic.

It takes a few minutes to find Stiles, who has wandered into the baking aisle for some reason. As soon as Stiles spots him, he immediately starts bombarding him with questions.

“What happened? How did it go? Do you think you got the job?”

“Uh, I did an interview, fine, and maybe?” Derek answers. Stiles grins.

“I told you you’d be good! Come on, let’s get breakfast. I could go for some pancakes.”

Stiles takes him to a breakfast diner. Derek gets waffles, eggs, and bacon. As he’s eating his waffles, Stiles steals his bacon. He retaliates by stealing Stiles’s sausage. Stiles seems to find this hilarious, and Derek takes another bite of the sausage and fights a grin.

Later that day, he gets a call saying he’s got the job, and he starts on Monday. He’s hardly able to tell Cora over Stiles’s cheering. He doesn’t bother to fight the grin this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! Thanks for all the subscribers and kudos! Thanks for the comments, and for reading! It really means a lot to me.
> 
> Quick warning before we go into this chapter: there's a panic attack. I don't know if it'll trigger anyone, but I don't want to take that chance. So, yeah.
> 
> Beta'd by [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale), [southerntamata](http://thirstyweeaboo.tumblr.com/), and [thelolunicorn](http://thelolunicorn.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/)!

Derek’s grateful they moved during the summer, because it means he gets his school schedule the same way everyone else does. Beacon Hills High has everyone come pick up their schedules by grade, so Derek catches a ride with Stiles, Isaac, and Scott and they ride over to the school. They meet up with Allison, Danny, Lydia, Jackson, Erica, and Boyd before they go in, and have to split up when they get inside, because the tables are labeled **Last Names: A - L** and **M - Z**.

Derek follows Allison, Isaac, and Boyd to the first table and gets his schedule, locker number, and a list of all the extra curriculars. He glances through his classes quickly and then walks with Allison back to their group of friends.

“Let’s see,” Allison pulls his schedule out of his hands and looks at it. “Excellent, we have English and Art together.”

Derek gives her a smile. He takes his schedule back when she hands it to him, only to have it pulled out of his hands again by Stiles.

“Let’s see,” Stiles says. “English, History, Biology, Art, French, Gym, and Pre-Calculus.”

“Dude!” Scott says from where he’s reading over Stiles’s shoulder, holding his hand up for a high-five. “Same schedule!”

Derek high-fives him, because at least there’s one person in his classes that he knows and likes. Stiles is looking at his own schedule now, and frowns.

“Damn,” he says. “I have Physics instead of Biology, Photography instead of Art, and Calculus instead of Pre-Calculus.”

“Why are you taking Photography?” Scott demands, looking genuinely confused.

“Photoshop, my dear Scott,” Stiles pats him on the head. Scott grins.

“You’re an idiot,” Jackson tells him.

“Love you, too,” Stiles rolls his eyes.

Derek wonders how he ended up with these people for his friends. He follows them out of the building and gets back into Stiles’s Jeep, listening to Stiles and Jackson yell at each other from across the parking lot. Erica finally yells, “Just have sex already!” and Jackson immediately shuts his mouth.

“He’s not my type!” Stiles yells.

“I’m everyone’s type!” Jackson seems honestly offended.

“Oh, my God, shut up and drive!” Scott honks Stiles’s Jeep’s horn. Isaac’s got his face buried in his hands and his shoulders are shaking. Derek’s hiding behind his bag, pretending he doesn’t know any of them.

Stiles finally shuts up when both Isaac and Scott work together to pull him inside the Jeep, and he drives them to a nearby Dairy Queen. He's still laughing about it when they walk in, and he throws his arm around Derek’s shoulders, leaning on Derek as he laughs. Derek shakes his head.

“You’re ridiculous,” he tells Stiles.

“I know.”

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Stiles offers to drive Derek to school as a carpool, and Laura immediately takes him up on his offer. Derek’s glad, too, because he thinks he’d be a lot more nervous if Stiles, Scott, and Isaac weren’t all walking with him. Allison, Stiles, Scott, and Erica have English with Derek, and Stiles immediately pulls him down in a seat next to him. This happens in every class Derek has with Stiles. He sits next to Scott in the classes Stiles isn’t in, and in Gym, when they’re put in spots around the gym according to last names, he keeps to himself until they’re allowed up. Lunch, he learns, is according to grade, so they’re all in the same lunch, which is a relief, and he’s again sat next to Stiles. He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t mind.

After school, he has a shift at the grocery store, so Stiles drops him off and makes him promise to come out on the roof when he’s home. Derek works hard, and tries to keep his mind off of Stiles, and when he’s finally let off at eight, he heads out to Laura’s car.

“How was the first day?” Laura asks as she drives him home. He shrugs.

“Fine,” he says. Cora’s in the backseat, and she starts talking about her day, and a new friend she’d made, and Derek leans against the back of his seat and looks up at the roof of the Stilinski house as he walks in. He can see the outline of a person and waves. The person -- Stiles -- waves back, so Derek hurries up to his room and out the window.

“God, I hate waking up early for school,” Stiles complains as Derek climbs out. “Seriously, the day should not start before noon.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just sits down. He’s got his art bag gripped in his hand, even though he can’t really see enough to draw. Stiles’s eyes focus on it, and he says, “Why do you take that everywhere you go?”

Derek freezes and looks at it. Stiles sees the look on his face and immediately starts to backtrack. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me. Sometimes I just forget what boundaries are and I just ask questions that aren’t my business --.”

“No,” Derek says quietly. “It’s okay.”

Stiles falls silent, and Derek takes a deep breath. “There was -- two years ago, the house that we’d lived in all my life -- it burned down.”

Stiles lets out a slow breath, but doesn’t say anything. Derek swallows and starts to talk again. “We lost everything. And I -- I don’t want to do that again. So.”

“You keep it with you,” Stiles finishes, and he looks serious. “Okay. Thanks for telling me. I’m sorry for asking.”

Derek shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. Really. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t have answered.”

Stiles nods. Then he says, “In my glove box, in my Jeep, there’s a picture of my mom. There’s one in my wallet, too, and in my backpack. Just in case.”

Derek just nods. Stiles leans his head back against the side of his house and looks at the darkening sky. Derek watches him for a few minutes, wondering what’s going through his head. He doesn’t find out though, because Stiles lets out a sigh, and says, “I should go inside. My dad wants to hear about my first day. See you tomorrow?”

Derek nods and watches Stiles climb in through the window. Stiles waves before he closes the window. Derek waves back, and leans against the house, staring straight in front of him. He stays out there for a long time, long enough that the air starts to get chilly.

Finally, he goes inside, and opens his sketchbook to the picture of the old house, staring at it. Then he flips to another page, and starts to draw Stiles, staring up at the sky.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek learns that Stiles, Scott, Isaac, Jackson, and Danny all play lacrosse, and are forced into cross country by their coach. Boyd joins because he likes to run, Allison joins because she’s faster than most of them, and somehow Derek finds himself talked into it. He’d hoped his job would have gotten in the way, but when he brought it up to Jaimie, she’d been all for it, and had promised him they would work out the schedule for him. Laura had been all for it as well, so Derek had had no excuse.

So that was how Derek found himself running in the woods on a path he’s pretty sure was perfectly designed to torture him. He’s always been in shape to a certain point, but he’d never been in sports, except baseball (his dad’s favorite sport). He doesn’t know how he let Stiles talk him into this. He’s not a runner.

“Come on, Derek, you can do it!” Stiles pops up next to him out of  _nowhere_ and Derek will never admit to the yelp that came out of his mouth.

“I...hate...you,” Derek pants.

“No, you don’t,” Stiles says, and starts _running backwards_. Derek had _not_ pegged Stiles for as athletic as he apparently is. “Running is good for you. Just thinking of the training for the zombie apocalypse. And besides, now you get to spend more time with me.”

“Oh, joy,” Derek manages to sound sarcastic. “I...still...hate you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Stiles pats Derek’s shoulder. “Think of all the admirers you’ll get, though! A lot of girls at our school find guys who play sports hot. Not me, for some reason, but you know, whatever.”

“Not particularly interested in girls.”

“You’re gay?” Stiles asks, and he doesn’t even sound surprised. Derek just nods. “Cool. Bisexual myself. A lot of hot guys in sports at our school, man, although some of them are literally the scum of the earth, so maybe not.”

Derek snorts. “Shocking.”

Stiles just shrugs. “A lot of cool guys in sports, too, though. Danny’s awesome, as you already know, and Ethan isn’t too bad. His brother’s an ass, but you win some, you lose some.”

Derek rolls his eyes. Stiles just grins at him, then says, “What, does that bother you? That’s not a kink, then, angry twin brothers?”

“Oh, my _God_ , Stiles.”

“Just saying, man, some people can be into some weird shit. No judgement here.”

“Stilinski!” the coach yells. “Stop talking and start running!”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Stiles salutes the coach and waits until they’ve gone out of sight before blurting out, “Coaches are _crazy_ , holy shit.”

Derek lets out a laugh, because yeah, he knows. His dad had been a baseball coach for Derek’s Little League team. He’d been somewhat obsessive. Derek had worked _so hard_ to impress him. Nothing made him happier than when his dad had that proud look in his eyes.

That maybe wasn’t a good thing to think about, because there’s a tightening in Derek’s chest that he recognizes, and he has to stop. Stiles skids to a stop and nearly falls over, but Derek can’t laugh, because he’s already out of breath, and now he can’t breathe.

_Fucking panic attacks._

“Derek?” Stiles says, and he sounds concerned. Derek opens his mouth to try to explain what’s going on, but he can’t, he doesn’t have the air to do so. Luckily, Stiles seems to understand anyway, and pulls Derek to the side, off the path. Derek’s shaking and his chest is starting to hurt, he doesn’t have the ability to fight Stiles, nor does he want to. He lets Stiles sit him down on the ground, and pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his head on his knees.

Stiles doesn’t stop him, and doesn’t even touch him. He settles down next to Derek, loud enough that Derek can hear him, and, true to form, starts talking. He talks in a low, calming voice about the weather, about his math teacher’s obviously fake hair, about what he’s planning on making for dinner. He continues talking, and Derek focuses on the words he’s saying, distracting himself.

Derek doesn’t know how much longer it is, but he finally calms himself down, and lifts his head slowly. Stiles is still talking, now talking about an old woman he’d once seen apologizing to a metal detector. He glances over and sees Derek’s head is up, and finishes his story before asking, “You good to go?”

Derek lets out a shaky breath and nods.

“Sorry,” he rasps.

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles says, and pushes himself to his feet. He holds out a hand for Derek and pulls him to his feet. He’s a little unsteady, and nearly falls over before Stiles pulls his arm over his shoulder and lets Derek lean on him as they walk back to where the bus is.

Coach Finstock looks offended as they start walking back, and opens his mouth to yell, but Stiles cuts in first.

“Sorry, Coach, he pushed himself a little too hard,” Stiles says. “Thought it would be better if he wasn’t alone as he walked back. I’ll go sit with him on the bus, make sure he gets some water and doesn’t pass out on us.”

Coach blinks, then clears his throat. “Don’t do it again!”

“He won’t, Coach,” Stiles says, and they head back to the bus. As soon as they’re in their seats, Derek slumps in relief, and accepts the water bottle Stiles hands to him. He opens it and takes a drink, and closes his eyes, leaning against the window.

Stiles starts talking again, this time about their English assignment, and has practically written his essay out loud by the time the others get on. Scott’s giving Derek a worried look, but when he sits, he doesn’t ask. Allison gives him a questioning look, but Derek just shakes his head, and everyone else seems to understand he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“You okay?” Scott whispers as the bus is driving. Derek nods.

He’s upset, though, as they pull in at the school, because he’s been doing really well and it’s been four months since the last time he’d had a panic attack. He’s ruined his record, and as he follows the others into the locker room, he imagines the look Laura will have on her face when he tells her he’s had another a panic attack. She’s never blamed him for the panic attacks, never once made him feel bad because of them, but Derek knows she thinks he’s healing, that he’s getting better. This panic attack will just worry her again. He resolves to not tell her. If she ever finds out, he’ll get in trouble. He doesn’t care. He _is_ doing better. She doesn’t need to worry.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

When he climbs up on the roof that night at six-thirty, Stiles is sitting on the roof, looking at the sky, and before Derek can say anything at all, he says, “After my mom died, I got panic attacks all the time. It got to the point that my dad wanted to put me on medication, and we were discussing it with doctors, until one day they went away on their own. It’s been three years, but I remember. So don’t worry about it. You’d do the same for me.”

Which is true. Derek knows it’s true, because Stiles is probably the best friend Derek’s ever had, and he’s grateful that he’d known what to do earlier, and that he’d stayed with Derek during and after. He hates that Stiles knows what panic attacks are like, but he’s glad he knows now, because Derek’s used to trying to hide it.

He’s exhausted, like he always is after panic attacks, and he wants to go to sleep, but he wants to talk to Stiles, wants him to know why he’d panicked. He wants to make sure that Stiles knows he didn’t accidentally trigger him. So he opens his mouth.

“That fire?” he says, and Stiles immediately looks at him. “I was there. And Cora was there. And...our parents, and our brothers, and our uncle and his wife.”

It’s the first time Derek’s ever said who he’d lost out loud before, to _anyone_ , and he’s surprised he’s actually able to say it. Stiles looks like he feels sick, but he’s not stopping Derek.

“There was something wrong with the wiring,” Derek’s never read the reports, he doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to find out what stopped working the way it was supposed to and stole so much from him. “I was in the living room with Cora, and I didn’t know what was going on until my dad ran in and yelled for us to get out of the house. I didn’t think about it, I just grabbed Cora and ran. My dad ran up the stairs, where everyone else was, and the fire…”

He remembers the screams. They still echo in his head, when it’s too quiet and he’s not thinking about anything else. He remembers himself screaming in response, and Cora screaming, and he remembers the sirens, they were so _loud_ , but he could still hear his family. He could still hear Cora. He remembers getting sick on the lawn, and Cora’s first panic attack, being gently moved out of the way so the EMTs could try to calm her down and the way she’d clung to his hand, squeezing so hard it hurt. He remembers the way the fire was burning, the flames shooting out the window of the rooms, of _his_ room.

There’s a noise, and suddenly he feels someone sitting next to him. He blinks his eyes and remembers where he is: on his roof, talking to Stiles.

Who is now sitting next to him, instead of on his own roof. Derek takes a shaky breath, and leans slightly on Stiles. Neither of them say anything, though they stay that way for a long time.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Several weeks later, Derek’s sitting in Biology, a class he only shares with Scott. They have a substitute, and they’re watching a video Derek saw once at his last school, so he reaches down to pull out his sketchbook. He’s got a new one of Stiles started, one of him laughing as he leans out his window, and Derek wants to finish it before he forgets what Stiles’s face looked like.

He frowns when his art bag isn’t where he usually leaves it, and looks down to see it’s not there. He stamps down on the initial panic and looks around the floor.

He doesn’t see it anywhere. It’s nowhere in the classroom from what he can tell. He thinks he remembers grabbing it before he’d left it. He’s never left the house without it before, and he doesn’t think he’s starting now.

Scott leans over and whispers, “Dude, are you okay?”

“Did I have my bag with me this morning?” he whispers back. Scott frowns and looks like he’s thinking. He nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “I remember because you almost dropped it in the mud, remember?”

Derek does remember. And that makes him feel worse. “Where is it, then?”

Scott looks around and his eyes widen. “Maybe you left it in the last class?”

Derek doesn’t like that, either. Scott grimaces, too, and says, “I’ll help you look for it.”

Derek manages a small smile, because Scott’s actually a good guy. He doesn’t want to wait to find his bag, though, because he doesn’t want anyone looking through it. And he _definitely_ doesn’t want to lose it altogether. But it’s the middle of Biology, and the sub is staring at him and Scott, so he settles back and opens his notebook, pretending to take notes.

As soon as the bell rings, he’s up and out of his seat. Scott’s right behind him, and they go back to their History classroom. They search the entire room, but it’s very clearly not there. Derek’s starting to panic now, and Scott apparently senses it, because he puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s go check English,” he says, and leads Derek down the hall. When they get to the classroom, they search it, even though there are kids coming in for their class. It’s not there, either, and Derek looks at Scott helplessly.

“Maybe the office?” Scott suggests, and they head down there. The secretary apologizes and says that no one’s brought one in, but promises to call Derek down immediately if it shows up. Derek thanks her, but he feels sick as he and Scott head down to the Art classroom.

“Maybe one of the others grabbed it,” Scott says, and he pulls out his phone. He sends a mass text out to the group, and lets Derek look over his shoulder as he gets replies from everyone. Jackson, Danny, Lydia, Isaac, and Boyd immediately respond with no. Allison can’t remember if he had it in English, and Erica’s convinced he did. Stiles is sure that Derek had it during History.

None of this makes Derek feel better, and as he walks into Art and sits down next to Scott, he feels upset. He usually love Art, because he’s good at it. The teacher’s nice and open-minded, and if he’s caught up he’s allowed to pull out his own sketchbook. But today, he just feels lost.

Allison gives him a smile from the other side of Scott, and offers to help him look for his bag later. Derek is grateful for her offer, and gives her the same smile he’d given Scott. The two of them keep a conversation going and try to include him as much as he’s willing. Derek’s not in a talkative mood, so he just listens and tries to focus on his painting of a mountain.

After Art is lunch, and as soon as he follows Allison and Scott into the cafeteria, Stiles swoops down on him and starts asking him questions.

“Did you find it? Where’s the last place you remember having it? Did you have it at the beginning of Biology? Is there some sort of identifying tag that names you its owner? What else was in there besides your sketchbook and pencils?”

Derek stares at him as he grabs a pizza slice. He’s not very hungry, but if he doesn’t eat, he’ll regret it during cross country practice. He’s made that mistake before. “I didn’t catch half of that.”

“We didn’t find it,” Scott says from Stiles’s other side. “And we know he had it when he came to school. But it wasn’t in the English or History classrooms, and it wasn’t in the Biology room. We went to the office, but no one had turned it in.”

Stiles nods and waits as they both pay for their meals. Then, as they’re walking to the table, he asks, “Is there something on it that tells people it’s yours?”

“There’s a tag inside the main pocket that says my name and number on it,” Derek says. “I didn’t put an address, because we move so much.”

Stiles nods. “And what’s in it?”

“Sketchbook, pencils, a package of Skittles, the library’s copy of The Giver,” Derek answers. His stomach clenches. “And a picture of my family.”

Stiles blinks, then nods. “We’ll find it.”

He seems so confident that Derek believes it, and continues to believe it until after gym, when he heads to Pre-Calc with Scott (again, the only person in that class he has) and it still hasn’t shown up. Scott’s chewing on his bottom lip, and looks like he’s about to burst out of his skin.

Derek doesn’t even pretend to focus on his math problems, instead staring at the pages of his math book and desperately trying not to panic. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they don’t find the bag, because that sketchbook has been with him since the fire, and that picture is the only one he has that he keeps for himself. The pencils were expensive. And all those pictures of Stiles he’s been working on -- those are private.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by the phone ringing, and his teacher, Ms. Walters, gets up and answers it. Derek pays close attention, because he knows the call could be about his art bag, and when her eyes focus on him, he feels a tiny bit of hope. She thanks the caller, then hangs up the phone.

“Mr. Hale?” she says, although they’re already looking at each other. “There’s something in the office for you. Come right back afterwards.”

Derek nods and jumps up. Scott flashes him a thumbs-up as he hurries out of the room and down the hall, into the office. When he walks in, the secretary smiles at him and says, “Someone just brought this in. They found it in the bathroom.”

She lifts up his art bag. Derek takes it from her and squeezes his eyes shut for a second as he’s overcome with relief. When he’s sure he’s controlled, he opens them and unzips the bag.

Everything’s there, even the bag of Skittles. He lets out a sigh of relief and zips it back up.

“Thank you,” he tells her. She smiles at him again, then sends him back to class with a stern reminder to keep track of it. He nods and goes back to class, sliding into his seat. Scott’s got a grin on his face, and pats Derek on the shoulder again before pulling out his phone. Derek assumes he’s texting the others about the bag, and turns to his math problems to distract himself from the fact that his knees are literally weak with relief.

He’s attacked from behind while walking into the locker room to get changed for cross country, and doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Stiles who has decided to jump onto his back. He just rolls his eyes and walks into the room, pretending there isn’t someone hanging off of him, and carefully puts his art bag in his locker before shaking Stiles off.

“I told you we’d find it!” Stiles says cheerfully, and puts his own bag on the floor.

“To be fair, we didn’t find it,” Isaac pipes up. “Someone else did.”

“Where was it?” Danny asks curiously.

“In the bathroom,” Derek mutters. He’s annoyed with himself for leaving it in there. He’s lucky everything is still there, and that someone honest found it.

Stiles claps him on the back. “All’s well that ends well, my friend. And everything’s still there?”

Derek nods before pulling off his shirt. Once he’s changed, he waits for Stiles, like he always does, and then they take their bags and head to wait where Coach meets them with the bus.

The bus takes them out to the preserve, and they start to run. Derek’s finding keeping up with everyone else easier now that he’s in shape, although he still wears out faster than the others. Stiles falls back to run with him every time. Derek suspects he’s making sure he doesn’t have another panic attack, but he’s grateful nonetheless. Stiles makes running more entertaining.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

“Ugh,” Stiles says later that night, stretching on the roof. “We should probably find a better place to do our homework. It’s probably a bad idea to do it on the roof.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Never stopped us before.”

“My ass is numb,” Stiles complains. “Can we at least go into my room? At least then I don’t have to worry about my book falling to the ground and owing the school money.”

Derek snorts, but agrees, and he grabs his backpack and his art bag from inside his room and passes them to Stiles before climbing across. Stiles hands them back to him after he’s in the room. Derek drops them on Stiles’s bed and looks around.

It’s not the first time he’s been in Stiles’s room. The first time had been two weeks after he’d first moved there, when it had been too hot outside for either of them, and Stiles had asked Derek to come watch a movie with him. It’s cleaner than Derek expects, but other than that, Derek thinks it fits Stiles pretty well. There’s a fair amount of posters on the walls, and the desk has a pile of books next to it. Stiles’s laptop is open to his iTunes page, and there’s four books sitting in a pile that’s about to fall over. The bed isn’t made, and Stiles’s pillow is actually halfway on the floor, and Derek can’t help but smile at it all.

“Please tell me you’re reading 1984 for the essay,” Stiles says as he sets his own notebooks down on the desk and throws himself in his chair.

“I am,” Derek nods. “I’ve already read Life of Pi. I don’t need a repeat.”

Stiles snorts. “Scott doesn’t like it. I told him it was his fault for choosing it in the first place. He hit me.”

Derek laughs. “It’s not bad. It’s just easier to read when a teacher isn’t telling you to read it.”

“Amen to that,” Stiles says, and pulls his notebook towards him. “Meanwhile, I’m competing with Lydia for valedictorian, and if she beats me, Jackson will never let me hear the end of it.”

“I believe in you,” Derek deadpans.

“Thanks,” Stiles rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. He hits play on his iTunes and they get to work.

It’s an hour later before Derek finally finishes his homework, and he falls back onto Stiles’s bed with a groan. He’s _tired_ , it’s been a stressful day and he just wants to go to sleep. Stiles stands up and says, “Hey, do you want some dinner? You said Cora was at her friend’s house, right?”

Derek nods and stands up. He follows Stiles down to the kitchen and finds a spot out of the way to watch Stiles cook.

Stiles, it turns out, is a great cook. He makes a stir fry, and plays music as he cooks. He dances and sings along, clearly comfortable in the kitchen, and Derek just watches, somewhat surprised. He doesn’t think he should be (it’s _Stiles_ ) but he is anyway.

The stir fry is good, and when Derek’s done, Stiles leads him back upstairs and says, “Dude, we’ve known each other for two months, how crazy is that? It feels like longer.”

Derek just nods, because he’s right, and says, “I’m not good at friends.”

“I’m so shocked,” Stiles says, grinning at Derek. He rolls his eyes. “No, dude, I get it. You moved around a lot. It’s probably not easy to make friends. That’s what Allison always told us, anyway. She’s only been here half a year, you know. Moved here halfway through our sophomore year.”

“I know,” Derek says, and sits back on Stiles’s bed. “But I also didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was happier when I was left alone.”

Stiles sits down next to Derek and says, “So, what changed?”

“I don’t know,” Derek admits. “I mean, part of it’s because I was just so angry at the world, and Laura, and Laura’s boss, and just everything in general. It’s also -- when people find out about the fire, they tend to act all...weird. They treat me differently. And it just makes me feel worse.”

Stiles nods. “I know what you mean. For a while after my mom died, no one knew how to act around me. Except Scott. They tried to tiptoe around me, and it just pissed me off. I _hated_ the pitying looks.”

Derek nods. He bites his lip before saying, “I was sitting on the roof because I thought it was a good place to hide, where no one would bother me.”

Stiles laughs. “That worked out well. Sorry.”

Derek shrugs. “You don’t bother me. I’m glad you came out and accused me of breaking into my own house.”

“I think you’ll recall that was hypothetical,” Stiles says. “I was just trying to make sure you didn’t get arrested.”

Derek snorts. “Right. Because as the son of the sheriff, the first thing you should be doing is helping burglars get away.”

Stiles laughs. “It was an empty house!”

Derek just shakes his head and laughs. Stiles grins, too, and says, “So my undeniable charm won you over?”

“I think it was more awe of how much you talked,” Derek replies.

“Hey, whatever works,” Stiles shrugs, and falls back to lay on the bed. Derek follows. This is a regular occurrence for them now, and Derek turns his head to see Stiles staring at him. They’re face-to-face again, and the urge to kiss Stiles is stronger than ever, but Derek doesn’t dare. Stiles is his best friend, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. He doesn’t think Stiles is interested in him, anyway.

“So,” Stiles says, without looking away. “Think you’ll stay here for the year?”

Derek blinks in surprise at the subject change, but nods. “Laura says her boss promised to keep her here until the school year is over, possibly longer.”

Stiles smiles brightly, and says, “Awesome.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter number five, yo, here we go.
> 
> This chapter is entirely Halloween and I regret nothing. Derek in a Captain America uniform, just think about for a few moments. Yeah. Exactly.
> 
> Disclaimer: I've never been drunk. Never been hung over. This is based off of what I've read and heard from friends. So. There ya go.
> 
> Beta'd by [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale), [southerntamata](http://thirstyweeaboo.tumblr.com/), and [thelolunicorn](http://thelolunicorn.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> My [tumblr](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/)!

Halloween has never been Derek’s favorite holiday, and he hasn’t really celebrated it since before the fire. This year, however, Cora’s going trick-or-treating with some of her friends, and Stiles has insisted that Derek come with him and the others to a party at the house of a senior Derek’s pretty sure he’s never met. Derek agrees, because he’s never been to a party before, and it’ll be fun.

He doesn’t have a costume, though, and almost ducks out at the last minute, but Stiles drags him over to Lydia’s the day before Halloween and Lydia inspects him before nodding and saying, “Yep. My dad’s old Captain America costume will fit him.”

“Captain America?” Derek blinks.

“He ‘kicks ass,’ remember?” Stiles says excitedly, and then adds, “I’m gonna be Iron Man. We’ll match!”

Derek can’t help but grin at Stiles’s enthusiasm, and tries on the costume for Lydia. It’s a bit too small for him, but he doesn’t complain too much, because Stiles is beaming, and Lydia’s nodding in approval. He changes back into his clothes and thanks Lydia before following Stiles back out to his Jeep.

Stiles decides they’re going to get ice cream, and they sit out on a wall outside of Dairy Queen, and Stiles informs Derek that he’s going to learn to play lacrosse next.

“No,” Derek winces, thinking of the violent sport he’s watched Stiles, Danny, Jackson, Scott, and Isaac play. He had no desire whatsoever to play that. At all. Especially not with Jackson, who Derek privately thinks is too aggressive for his own good.

“But Derek,” Stiles whines. “You’re so good at running now. Your mile time has dropped full _minutes_ , dude. You’ll pick up lacrosse in no time.”

 __“ _No_ , Stiles,” Derek shakes his head. “I don’t know how I let you guys talk me into cross country. It’s fun, I’ll admit, but I don’t want to play lacrosse.”

Stiles sulks for a couple of minutes before brightening up and saying, “But you’ll come to all the games, right?”

“Of course,” Derek says. “As long as I don’t have to play.”

Stiles seems appeased by that, and they head back to Stiles’s house, where they’re greeted by the sheriff, and then head up to Stiles’s room to watch a movie. Stiles has his laptop out, and is logged onto the chat. Derek’s reading over his shoulder and responds out loud, which Stiles then types to the group. They’ve agreed to meet at Danny’s house before the party (the person throwing the party lives across the street from Danny) and arrive together.

The next day, Derek puts the costume on and models it for Cora, who squeals in excitement. She’s dressed as Katniss, and demands that Derek braid her hair. He does so carefully, like he’d learned to do after the fire, and when he’s done, she gives him a hug and bounces out the door with her friend.

Stiles is leaning against his Jeep when Derek comes out, his Iron Man mask sitting on the hood, a piece of candy already in his hand.

“How do you stay in good shape when you eat all that sugar?” Derek asks as he approaches him.

“Fast metabolism,” Stiles gives him a cheeky grin. Derek just rolls his eyes.

“He’s always been a skinny little shit.”

Derek snorts as Scott comes into view. He’s dressed as Wolverine, and Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Is there a Marvel theme?” he asks.

“Nah,” Stiles waves a hand. “Scott’s always Wolverine.”

“Wolverine is _awesome_ , dude,” Scott says, pointing one hand at him. “Don’t even pretend you don’t like him, _you’re_ the one who made me read the comics.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Stiles says, tossing a piece of candy to Derek.

“How do you have candy?” Scott asks. “Or should I ask who you robbed?”

“It’s not robbing if you’re the one who bought the goddamn candy and no one’s home to hand it out because your dad got called in at the last minute,” Stiles says, tossing Scott a piece, too.

“Touche,” Scott says.

“Well, _hello_ , Captain,” Derek hears Erica’s voice from behind him and turns. She’s dressed as a zombie Red Riding Hood, and Derek just nods at her.

“You fill out that costume in all the right ways,” Erica informs him. “ _Damn_.”

Derek is suddenly glad most of his face is covered, because he’s turning bright red. He doesn’t know what to say, but he’s saved by Stiles stepping up next to him and throwing his arm around his shoulder saying, “Sorry, E, you’re not his type.”

Erica grins. “Oh, did you two finally own up to it? When’s the wedding?”

Derek’s pretty sure his mouth is wide open, because _what is happening_. Stiles, however, doesn’t miss a beat.

“We got eloped in secret. Sorry for not telling you, but I’m pregnant and it was a last minute decision.”

Scott cracks up and falls against Derek, laughing too hard to keep himself up.

“Well, then,” Isaac says from behind them. “That was a horrible time to enter the conversation. What did I miss?”

“Stiles is pregnant and got eloped to Derek, who is his baby daddy,” Erica says. “And they totally left the rest of us out of the wedding.”

Isaac blinks, and Derek doesn’t know whether to laugh or run away. He’s stuck at the moment, because Scott’s leaning on him, and Stiles still has an arm over his shoulder. He’s grinning at Derek, but looks somewhat nervous, too.

Derek grins back, unable to help it, and Stiles relaxes before tossing a piece of candy at Erica and Isaac. Derek takes a second to admire Isaac’s Beetlejuice costume before turning back to Stiles, who is studying his Jeep.

“This is gonna be a tight fit,” he says. “And I still don’t know how none of you have cars. Or licenses, in some cases.”

Derek just rolls his eyes and climbs in back. Isaac settles on the other side of him, and Scott very nearly stabs Derek in the eye with his claws trying to get into the final seat. Stiles laughs from the front seat until Isaac casually slaps him on the back of the head. Erica gets in the passenger seat and gives them all a victorious grin.

Danny has an amazing house. Derek’s been there a couple of times now, and he privately thinks that it’s his favorite out of all of his friends’ houses. It’s a gorgeous house, rustic and golden, with lots of windows and archways. Every time he sees it, Derek gets the urge to draw it. The only reason he hasn’t is because he wants to draw it while looking at it, and he thinks sitting outside the Mahealani house staring at it would be considered creepy.

Danny’s standing out front, dressed as Peter Pan. Jackson’s standing next to him, in full Joker makeup and costume, looking smug. Boyd’s wearing Jedi robes, leaning up against his car and talking to Allison, who is dressed as Harley Quinn, and Lydia, who is dressed in an amazing Maleficent costume.

“We should really coordinate our costumes,” Danny says as they’re walking closer.

“At least none of us are wearing the same thing,” Stiles says brightly. Derek rolls his eyes and looks across the street. There are cars up and down the street, and people are heading towards the house. Derek wishes he could remember the name of the person throwing the party. He’s pretty sure that’s an important part of going to party. You’re supposed to know the name of the host, right?

He doesn’t mention, though, and follows Stiles across the street. Stiles has his helmet on now, and turns his head toward Derek.

“Do I make a good Iron Man?” he asks.

“You look better this way with your face covered,” Jackson snarks from behind them.

“I’m sorry, did you hear something?” Stiles asks, his head still turned to Derek, who is fighting a grin. “No? Just me? Okay.”

“You make a fine Iron Man,” Erica pipes up. “Maybe even better than Tony Stark.”

“Just don’t try to grow goatee,” Derek suggests. Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Danny all crack up. Stiles shakes his head.

“You wound me,” he says, throwing his arm around Derek’s shoulder. “You’re lucky I like you better than Jackson.”

This, for some reason, makes Jackson snort. Derek throws him a confused look, which he realizes too late is covered up by the Captain America mask that is pulled over the top half of his face. Stiles just flips Jackson off without even looking at him.

The party actually ends up being fun. Derek isn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting, but there’s loud music, and awkward dancing, and someone brings out the alcohol. Derek wonders if Stiles is concerned, because his dad is the _sheriff_ and he’s also Derek’s ride home, but Stiles has a cup of something in his hand and his helmet has mysteriously disappeared.

“Um,” he can’t help but bring it up. “Is one of us supposed to be a designated driver?”

Stiles blinks at him before saying, “No, we’re all going to crash at Danny’s. Did I forget to tell you that? Shit, I did. Oh, man, um, I can totally let you drive the Jeep home if you need it. It’s a stick. Do you know how to drive a stick? Or we could just hotwire Jackson’s Porsche, I’d be up for that.”

Despite the situation, Derek snorts, then shakes his head. “No, I just -- it’s been a long time since I spent the night somewhere else.”

Stiles looks thoughtful. “Well, there _are_ some people who are designated drivers here. I’m sure we could find one if you need one. I’d offer, but I may have already had too much.”

He looks like he feels really guilty. Derek forgives him immediately. “I just -- Cora usually ends up in my room? Although --,” now that he thinks about it, Cora’s been coming into his room less and less. He wonders if spending the night at Danny’s would be okay, for once. He doesn’t want to push it too far, but he’s been invited to crash at their houses more than once now and he’s always refused. What if, for once, he didn’t refuse?

“I need my phone,” he informs Stiles, who looks confused.

“Why are you telling me?” he asks. Derek holds his arms out.

“Does it look like I have any room in this costume to put my phone?”

Stiles laughs as he looks Derek up and down. “Point taken. Is it in the Jeep?”

Derek nods. Stiles pulls his keys out of a compartment on his costume that he’d apparently added for this very reason, and they go out to the Jeep. Derek grabs his phone out of his bag and dials the number.

“Hello?” Laura answers, and Derek clears his throat.

“So apparently the plan was to spend the night at Danny’s house,” Derek says. “And there’s -- well, Stiles can’t drive me home.”

Stiles makes a face from where he’s leaning against his Jeep. Derek grimaces back.

“Do you -- do you think Cora will be okay without me for a night?” Derek asks. “That is, if it’s okay for me to spend the night at Danny’s?”

It’s quiet for a few moments, and then he hears Laura sigh. “It is one hundred percent okay with me if you want to spend the night at Danny and be a stupid teenager. As long as you’re careful. As for Cora -- I don’t know. She’s been getting better. So, how about this? I’ll offer to do a movie marathon with her. We’ll stay up late, watch whatever movie she wants to watch. We’ll spend the night in the living room. And we’ll all be thankful you don’t have school tomorrow.”

Derek lets out a slow breath. “Really? And if she needs me, you’ll call, right?”

“Of course,” Laura says. “Go. Have fun. Be a dumb teenager. Try not to get too drunk. Don’t drink anything poured by anyone you don’t trust. Don’t break anything.”

“Thanks, Laura,” Derek says. “I’ll be careful. Bye.”

He hangs up and looks at Stiles. “All’s good.”

Stiles beams at him like he’s made his whole day and grabs Derek’s arm before dragging him back inside. Any last anxiety Derek had over Cora needing him disappears after Stiles pushes a cup in his hand and says, “Drink it. Erica mixed it. She’s a genius.”

Derek takes a slow sip. He’s never had alcohol before, and he’s somewhat nervous (and glad he’d remembered to eat a good dinner). The drink is actually good, fruity with what Derek _thinks_ is vodka. He doesn’t ask, just takes another drinks and follows Stiles to the backyard.

Somehow, he ends up on a pool chair, squished between Stiles and a girl he doesn’t remember the name of (she makes an excellent Wonder Woman, though), on his third cup of the mix and is laughing at a joke he can’t remember the punchline of. He feels pretty fuzzy, but also really happy, and thinks that this is probably the best he’s felt since the fire.

He’s also pretty sure he’s an idiot.

He’s definitely not the only one who is drunk. Stiles seems to be more sober than Derek is, but Scott is totally wasted, and is stumbling over to them. Somehow, he falls onto Derek and Stiles’s laps and looks up at them with a sad look on his face.

“What the fuck, man?” Stiles asks nonchalantly, and Derek snorts.

“I want to ask Allison out,” Scott says. His head is in Derek’s lap, and he’s pouting. Derek doesn’t know why, but he finds this entire thing really hilarious, and starts to laugh, burying his face in his hands. He peeks at Scott through his fingers, but doesn’t move his hands.

“So go ask her out,” Stiles says. Scott blinks at him, then shakes his head, an annoyed look on his face.

“I want to be _sober_ ,” he says. “But I can’t get the courage to do it when I’m not drunk. Like right now I think I could totally go ask her out.”

“If you could walk,” Stiles says.

Derek just starts laughing even harder. Stiles lightly hits him on the side of the head before saying to Scott, “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re no help,” Scott whines. “Derek, be more helpful than Stiles.”

Derek just shakes his head, his face still covered. Scott huffs a sigh and says, “You suck.”

“Bite me!” Stiles says cheerfully.

Scott doesn’t move off of Derek and Stiles’s laps. The girl to Derek’s right leaves though, with a few of her friends, and one was decidedly sober, so Derek doesn’t give it much thought. Instead, he gets distracted tracing lines up and down Stiles’s arm, and doesn’t refuse the next cup Erica hands him when she takes the girl’s spot.

“You have caught a lot of attention,” Erica says to him. “You should always wear skintight costumes. The girls would appreciate it.”

Derek snorts. “I’m gay.”

“The guys would appreciate it, too,” Erica says in a singsong voice.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” Derek admits. Stiles has apparently noticed the lines Derek is tracing on his arm, because he’s now following Derek’s hand with his eyes. Scott’s starting to fall asleep.

“We should get you one,” Erica decides.

“Let’s not,” Derek grimaces. Not because he doesn’t want a boyfriend, but because he knows exactly who he wants to be his boyfriend, but Stiles hasn’t hinted at it as far as Derek can tell and he doesn’t want to risk this friendship.

“But Derek,” Erica whines.

“No.”

He’s forced to listen to her complain about his attitude for the rest of the night.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek wakes the next morning lying on his stomach. Someone’s head is on his back, but he can’t be bothered to figure it out, because _holy hell his head hurts_.

It takes him several minutes to fight back the urge to just throw up on the floor and then drop back asleep. He can’t hear anything around him, so he assumes everyone else is still asleep. He doesn’t want to move, but his head _hurts_ and his mouth tastes absolutely gross, and his bladder has decided to violently protest the previous night’s activities.

Before he can say anything, The Offspring starts playing, and someone’s hand hits Derek in the face as everyone’s startled awake by the loud music.

“Ow!” Derek grimaces, and puts his head back down.

“Sorry, man,” Scott’s voice said.

“Whose phone is that?” Jackson demands.

“Shit, sorry,” Stiles’s voice comes from behind Derek, and he feels the person who has their head on his back move off of him. “Hello?”

“Stilinski, you’re a dead man,” Jackson groans. Derek rolls over and immediately regrets that decision. He groans and covers his eyes, trying to stop the world from spinning.

“Dad, I told you I’d be home this afternoon,” Stiles says through a yawn. “Yeah, I’ll pick some up. Okay. Love you, bye.”

Stiles hangs up and Derek feels someone laying back down next to him. He instinctively wants to curl up against the person and only holds back because he doesn’t want the world to spin again, which he’s pretty sure will happen if he moves his head again. He closes his eyes and drops asleep again.

The next time he wakes up, it’s because there’s noise coming from somewhere. He thinks it’s a TV, and he’s pretty sure he recognizes whatever’s playing, but he just pretends he can’t hear it and tries to go back to sleep.

Predictably, he fails, especially when he becomes aware that someone has pressed themselves up against him. Their face is nuzzled against his neck, and when he opens his eyes and immediately sees the dark, messy hair, he realizes it’s Stiles.

A million things rush through Derek’s head, and he stares at the ceiling, forcing himself to think of _anything_ other than the fact that Stiles is _literally as close to him as possible_. He can feel every inch of him, and he’s not totally sure he’s awake, but some part of him apparently is and is trying to get his attention. He panics and focuses on Cora, and wonders if she’s okay, then wonders how ridiculous it makes him that he’s thinking about his younger sister in an attempt to prevent a boner.

He realizes that the noise he hears is _The Notebook_ playing. That means Lydia’s awake, because she’s the only one who will admit to liking the movie. Derek’s pretty sure he hears Jackson’s voice, which doesn’t surprise him (Jackson may be a grade-A douchebag, but he is wrapped around Lydia’s finger). No one else seems to be awake.

It’s an hour later when Stiles finally wakes up. By then, Danny, Jackson, and Isaac are arguing over what episode of _Breaking Bad_ they should watch, Allison, Erica, and Lydia are sitting in a circle reading something on Lydia’s laptop, Boyd’s reading quietly, and Scott’s still out cold. Derek’s staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was a mirror so he could know what he looked like with Stiles up against him later to draw it.

He feels Stiles move his head and looks down at him. Stiles looks surprised for a few seconds before moving away from Derek, giving him a sheepish look. Derek just shrugs.

Before Stiles can say anything, Isaac drags him into the _Breaking Bad_ debate, and when Scott finally wakes up a half an hour later, Danny gives them all coffee.

“You’ll have to leave soon,” he says as he’s handing out mugs. “My parents want us to go out together for a family night.”

As soon as he finishes his coffee, Derek realizes he’s still in the Captain America costume. He’s not the only one still mostly dressed in their costume. Isaac’s still mostly Beetlejuice, and Scott has only half his makeup off. Erica’s wearing Boyd’s Jedi robes, and Jackson, though he’s got all the makeup off, is still dressed in Joker clothing. The difference is, Derek’s pretty sure he doesn’t have any other clothes with him, while the others probably do, and he doesn’t want to leave Danny’s house still dressed as Steve Rogers.

When he tells Stiles this, he gets a shrug and a, “I have an extra hoodie if you want it.”

He accepts it and he’s got a pair of shorts on underneath the costume, so Derek feels more comfortable when he gets into the Jeep. Erica’s going home with Boyd this time, so it’s just Derek, Scott, and Isaac in the car with Stiles as he drives home.

Derek stumbles into the house, art bag over his arm and costume over the other, and finds Cora and Laura asleep in the living room. They both look peaceful, so Derek doesn’t bother them and stumbles up to his room, falling face first on his bed.

It’s not until he wakes up later that day that he realizes he’s still wearing Stiles’s hoodie.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SAD STILES, HEADCANONS, AND THANKSGIVING ALERT!
> 
> (I'm gonna stop linking my betas in every chapter mainly because I'm in a rush right now but know that the same three are still my betas and are just as awesome as they have always been and also thanks for all the awesome comments and kudos and hits and subscribers!)

Halfway through November, Stiles leaves a Post-It Note on Derek’s window that says, ‘Can’t drive you today. Boyd will take you. See you tomorrow. -S.”

Derek tells himself he’s not worried, but he definitely is, and the solemn look on Scott’s face when he also gets into Boyd’s car does not help matters. He lasts until they’re at school, and then corners Scott to demand what’s wrong.

Scott sighs and says, “He always skips this day.”

“What day?” Derek asks, confused.

“It’s the anniversary of his mom’s death,” Scott says. “His mom died when we were eight, and every year on the anniversary, Stiles’s dad lets him have the day off. He doesn’t talk to anyone. He’ll be back tomorrow, but he’ll be quiet, like he’s been for the past couple days.”

Which is true. Derek knows Stiles has been quieter the past couple days. He’d wondered if Stiles was just getting sick or something, but hadn’t called him out on it. He didn’t think Stiles wanted it to be pointed out.

Still, he’s worried about Stiles all day, and when he gets home after work (at six today, because Jaimie is a nice person), he climbs out the window and stares at Stiles’s window.

Scott had said Stiles doesn’t talk to anyone, but Derek’s worried, and Stiles hadn’t left him alone after his panic attack. He knows exactly how Stiles feels and doesn’t want him to go through it alone, so he climbs over to Stiles’s roof and opens Stiles’s thankfully unlocked window.

There’s a Stiles-shaped lump under the blanket on the bed and it doesn’t even move when Derek drops into the room. He shuts the window and walks over to the bed and quietly says, “Stiles?”

The blanket moves, so Derek assumes Stiles is awake, and before he can do anything, the corner of the blanket is lifted up and the top of Stiles’s head peeks out. Derek can only see his eyes, but that’s more than he’d been able to see before. He waves.

Stiles’s eyes are red, and there are dark circles under them. He blinks at Derek, and says, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles looks at him for a few moments before saying in a hoarse voice, “Uh, today’s not really a good day?”

He sounds like he’s trying to hold himself together and not succeeding. Derek knows immediately how he feels and nods. “I know. Scott told me. I’m just here to check up on you.”

“Oh.”

It’s the quietest Derek’s ever seen Stiles, and it’s somewhat unsettling. Derek doesn’t want to push the issue, though, and he clears his throat to get Stiles’s attention again.

“Do you want to be alone?” he asks Stiles, point blank. “Because if so, I’ll go. If you don’t want anyone here, it’s not a problem.”

Stiles looks at him for a long moment before he whispers, “Stay.”

Derek hides his relief and pulls off the backpack he’d stuffed earlier with movies and snacks that he’d bought from his work and shows Stiles the movies he had. He’d grabbed _Galaxy Quest_ , _Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Princess Bride,_ and _Mean Girls_. Stiles stares at him like he’s never seen him before.

Derek shrugs. “They’re the movies I watch when it’s not a good day.”

Stiles lowers the blanket and watches Derek put _The Princess Bride_ in before taking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed next to Stiles, who lifts the blanket and scoots over to make some room, still looking somewhat confused. Derek pulls the backpack towards him and pulls out a package of Reeses. He opens it and takes one for himself before putting the package down where Stiles can easily reach it if he wants some but can ignore it if he doesn’t.

Stiles doesn’t speak much throughout _The Princess Bride_ , but doesn’t protest when Derek gets up and puts in _Monty Python_. Derek manages to get a small smile out of him when he tries to quote the Frenchman and says the words wrong, but he doesn’t really react to anything else. Derek doesn’t blame him and tries not to push him.

Derek puts _Mean Girls_ in and settles back into the bed with Stiles, who is blinking slowly, like he’s on the verge of falling asleep. Sure enough, halfway through the movie, Stiles’s head finds its way onto Derek’s chest, and he falls asleep. Derek stares down at him for a few moments, then at the ceiling, wondering how they got to this point.

He’s not able to dwell on it long, because about five minutes after Stiles falls asleep, the bedroom door opens, and Stiles’s dad pokes his head in, looking apprehensive. He freezes when he sees Derek sitting on the bed, then blinks at Stiles, who hasn’t woken up yet. He looks back at Derek, one eyebrow raised.

“Hi,” Derek waves awkwardly.

“Hi,” the sheriff opens the door a bit further and comes into the room, still looking confused. He waves his hand at Stiles and says, “How did this happen?”

“I just came over to check that he was okay,” Derek answers quietly, trying not to wake Stiles up. “I brought a few movies and he said it was okay that I stayed, so I put one in and we’ve been watching them? Except he fell asleep about five minutes ago.”

Sheriff Stilinski has a strange look on his face as moves closer to the bed. He runs a hand through Stiles’s hair and leans down to kiss Stiles’s head before straightening up and looking back at Derek.

“Okay,” he says. “Does Laura know you’re here?”

Derek nods. “I told her. She told me to make sure Stiles was okay and if she didn’t see me until tomorrow it was okay.”

Sheriff Stilinski has a strange look again, but it’s gone before Derek can analyze it. He nods and says, “Okay. He might wake up with nightmares, just so you know. And,” he pauses, looking uncomfortable for a second before clearing his throat. “Thank you. I’m glad he has you.”

Before Derek can respond, the sheriff is out the door. He leaves the bedroom door cracked slightly, and the hall light stays on, but Derek can’t hear him in the hallway, and doesn’t know what he’d say anyway, so he relaxes and watches the movie, instinctively wrapping an arm around Stiles.

He’s asleep before the credits play.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

“So what are we doing for Thanksgiving?” Scott asks the next day during lunch. Derek glances up and sees Scott focused on Stiles. He’s seated next to Derek, definitely quieter than normal, with a look on his face that has pretty much warned against interaction all day. The only people this seems to exclude is Scott, who Stiles can’t ignore even if he actually wanted to, and Derek, who Stiles seems to have decided to be aggressively normal with.

Derek’s not sure why Stiles seems determined to ignore the night before, and to be honest, he’s a little hurt by it. He hadn’t expected Stiles to actually acknowledge it out loud around their other friends, but he really doesn’t like the way Stiles is clearly trying to pretend nothing’s changed. It feels like an insult to Derek, and he’s definitely not the only one who’s noticed it. Scott keeps narrowing his eyes at them, like he knows something, and Erica keeps glaring at Derek, like he’s done something wrong. He keeps glaring back, which annoys Boyd, who glares at him, too, and Lydia is giving Boyd and Erica her Ice Queen look. This prompts Jackson to join in, which means Danny’s on his side. Isaac looks like he doesn’t know whether to run and hide or pick a side, and Allison is the only one who seems unaffected.

The point is, the tension level is higher than Derek’s ever seen it with this group and he doesn’t like it. One of the reasons he likes this group so much is the fact that they’re all different and you wouldn’t expect them to hang out together, but they do and they fit well together. He’d been surprised when he’d fit in with them, and the fact that they all seem on the verge of fighting is making him really nervous.

“What we always do,” Stiles says, not looking up from his fries, which he’s not eating. “Why would that be any different?”

Scott glances at Derek again, a concerned look on his face. He seems to be asking Derek what’s happening, and Derek can only shrug. He has no idea what’s going on in Stiles’s head.

The bell for the end of lunch finally rings, and Derek breathes a sigh of relief. Scott, Stiles, and Erica in French with him, though, so the tension’s still there. They sit down in their usual spots, which means Erica’s on Derek’s right and Stiles is in on his left, and he can feel Erica’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his skull. He buries his face in his textbook and pretends he doesn’t exist.

It doesn’t work, because as soon as the teacher is done with attendance, a note slips under Derek’s book from his right, and he sighs before slowly opening it.

**Fix it. Whatever you did, fix it.**

He holds back a frustrated noise and quick scrawls a note back before passing it to Erica.

_I didn’t do anything._

He hears Erica give a derisive snort.

**Bullshit. You’re the only one who could have done something.**

_What does that mean?_

He turns to look at Erica as he passes this one back, and when she reads it, she gives him an annoyed look before writing back.

**You’re an idiot, is what it means. He’s usually upset the day after, but he doesn’t ignore the rest of us. Whatever you did, undo it.**

_I didn’t do anything!_

Erica sighs as she writes back, and Derek glances up to make sure the teacher isn’t paying attention to them. She isn’t, which is a relief, but Scott’s staring at both of them with a confused and curious look. Derek wants to sink into the floor.

**Did you two talk last night?**

_Technically, no._

**What does that even mean?**

_I went to check on him, and brought movies with. We watched two of them and he fell asleep during the third and I stayed the night. He wasn’t in a talkative mood, so there wasn’t much talking._

Erica’s entire attitude changes when she reads this, and she looks up at Derek with wide eyes. She glances at Stiles, then back at Derek, and grins. Then she turns back to the paper.

**So that’s what this is about.**

Derek gives her a confused look, but the teacher passes out a pop quiz and by the time Derek finishes it, the bell rings and Stiles is right behind him, so he can’t exactly ask Erica what she was talking about. Not for the first time, he curses his inability to afford unlimited texting and follows Scott to gym.

As soon as Stiles is out of the locker room, Jackson and Danny corner Derek, and Scott’s right behind them, looking like he’s stuck between wanting to defend Derek and wanting to punch him.

“What the _hell_ did you do?” Jackson demands.

“Why does everyone just assume I did something?” Derek is _done with all of them_. “I don’t know what his problem is, either.”

“Don’t give us that bullshit,” Jackson says. “The only one of us who has this kind of effect on him is you. What did you do?”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Derek stares at him.

“Erica says you went over to his house last night,” Danny says quietly. Scott winces from behind Jackson and Danny, and Derek mentally curses Erica before Jackson slams the locker next to Derek and glares at him.

“I went over to check on him,” Derek glares back at Jackson. “He said I could stay, so we watched movies and then he fell asleep, so I stayed the night. We barely said anything, so I don’t know what his problem is.”

Just like Erica, the three of them freeze and completely change their attitude. Jackson rolls his eyes in annoyance, Danny looks surprised, and Scott looks relieved. Derek doesn’t understand what’s happening, but no one seems to be on the verge of punching him anymore, so he relaxes and says, “Can I change in peace now?”

Jackson actually backs away, but he doesn’t apologize. He walks away, into the gym, and Danny follows him, giving Derek an apologetic look. Derek turns to Scott and says, “What is even happening?”

“Stiles is being Stiles,” Scott says. “I’ll explain in Pre-Calc, okay?”

“I’m holding you to that,” Derek says grumpily as he finishes changing and follows Scott out into the gym. He’s glad to see no one glaring at him anymore, at least, and they run around the gym in preparation for the mile they have to run to pass. Derek usually runs next to Stiles, and today is no exception, but instead of talking like they always do, Stiles doesn’t say a word. He does, however, slow down and wait for Derek when his shoe comes untied, which makes Derek feel relieved. At least Stiles isn’t too mad at him.

The relief disappears when Stiles leaves the locker room without saying anything to any of them, and Derek feels hurt again as the door closes. He’s pretty sure the hurt shows on his face, because Danny claps him on the shoulder and says, “Don’t worry, we’re going to stage an intervention later. He’ll come around.”

Derek doesn’t feel any better by that, but he nods anyway and walks next to Scott as they head to math. As soon as they’re settled in their seats, Derek turns to Scott expectantly. Scott sighs.

“Oh, man, this is going to be harder than I thought,” he mutters before looking up. “Stiles is -- he’s kind of a genius, you know? And he’s really observant. Most of the time.”

Derek blinks and nods. He knows this, but this explains almost nothing of what’s going on, and he lets Scott know this by giving him an annoyed look.

Scott makes a face. “Stiles has self-esteem issues. He’s really hard on himself, and he knows he’s smart and stuff, but he thinks he annoys everyone and doesn’t see all of his good qualities. But he’s really stubborn, and when he gets some idea in his head, it’s hard to talk him out of it. And he thinks he’s annoying and unattractive. So the idea of someone he likes liking him back has never really occurred to him.”

Derek freezes. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, my _God_ ,” Scott groans. “Why am I the one having this conversation -- yes, we know you like him, yes, he likes you back. No, you’re not subtle. We have a bet set up for which one of you asks the other one out and everything.”

“Oh, like the one we have for you and Allison?” Derek can’t resist, even as his brain is trying to process what Scott’s saying.

Scott turns bright red and sputters, but Derek just ignores him, because apparently Stiles likes him back. Stiles _likes_ him. Stiles likes _him_. He feels like someone is blowing a balloon inside of him, he’s thrilled, but just as quick as it fills up, the balloon is popped by another thought.

“But wait,” Derek says. “So why is he acting all weird?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “That’s Stiles not knowing how to handle his emotions and attempting to pretend they’re not there in order to protect himself. Trust me.”

Derek blinks and nods. Scott _does_ know Stiles best. “Um. Okay.”

“Danny wasn’t kidding,” Scott says. “We are going to stage an intervention tonight. After school. Do you work tonight?”

Derek nods. “Until seven.”

“Okay,” Scott nods. “We can work with that.”

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek isn’t sure what he’s going to find when he gets home, but he climbs up on the roof like always. Stiles is, as usual, sitting on his roof, and he’s hugging his knees to his chest. He looks up when Derek climbs out, and looks at him as Derek gets settled. Before he can fully get comfortable, however, Stiles blurts out, “Wanna come watch a movie?”

Derek looks at him for a moment before nodding and getting up and climbing over, following Stiles in through the window.

Stiles puts in _Galaxy Quest_ and they both sit on the bed to watch the movie. Derek doesn’t know what to think, but he’s starting to get nervous. He doesn’t know how the talk Scott and the others were supposed to have went, and he doesn’t know what’s going through Stiles’s head. Not that he ever knows what’s going through Stiles’s head. But still. He can usually tell his mood by watching his body language.

It takes five minutes for Stiles to let out a groan and fall backwards onto his bed. Derek follows his example and doesn’t turn his head, just stares at the ceiling. He’s struck with how comfortable he feels here. Not just _here_ , but next to Stiles. He lets out a breath and closes his eyes, letting himself relax on the bed.

“God,” Stiles says after a couple of minutes of silence. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“No worries,” Derek says, and he turns his head to look at Stiles. He’s staring at the ceiling, a seemingly confused look on his face, and Derek doesn’t know what to do.

He’s about to sit up and pay attention to the movie when Stiles suddenly turns his head and looks at Derek.

“It’s almost Thanksgiving,” he informs Derek.

“I know.”

“My mom always did the best Thanksgiving meal,” Stiles says. “She’d go all out, before she got sick. She tried to keep doing it after she got sick, but she didn’t have the energy to. The first Thanksgiving she was sick, when I was seven, my dad and I tried really hard to keep the tradition going. We accidentally burned the turkey, and the mashed potatoes were too lumpy, and the gravy was too runny, but my mom just thought it was funny. She hugged us both and told us we did a good job, and we ate what little of it was actually edible, and then went out to a restaurant.”

Stiles stops for a moment, and Derek watches as he squeezes his eyes closed for a few seconds, before opening them again. Derek doesn’t say anything, just waits for Stiles to talk.

“The next Thanksgiving -- see, my mom had known for a while she was going to die. My dad was in denial, and I just -- I couldn’t picture world without my mom. So I didn’t. But my mom, she was smart, and she planned ahead, and no matter how many times she went into treatment, she knew she wasn’t going to make it. So a week before she died, we started putting all her recipes in a cookbook. Well, my mom did. I was still having problems with my ADHD, and my dad refused to do it, because he knew what it meant.”

“And then, one day, I was at the hospital. Ms. McCall was on duty, and she came into the room, and told my mom that my dad was on the scene for a car accident. And my mom smiled, and nodded, and Ms. McCall left. And then.”

Stiles’s voice breaks, and Derek wants to do something to comfort him, hug him or something, so he reaches out a hand and grabs Stiles’s in his own. Stiles doesn’t fight it, and takes a deep breath before plunging on.

“I remember what time it was. It was six-sixteen at night. I was supposed to go home at five, but Ms. McCall was on shift, and my dad was still at work, so I was alone with my mom, and she -- she knew it was coming. So she pulled me closer, and hugged me, and told me to take care of my dad, and then…”

Stiles trails off, but Derek doesn't need him to continue. He already knows what happened. Stiles turns his head back to the ceiling and exhales.

“So that first Thanksgiving afterwards -- I didn’t even know the date. My dad and I were not in a good place. I was having panic attacks. My dad was drinking. We both just...we didn’t want to deal with it, and we weren’t even trying to. I don’t think I talked at all for the first week afterwards, even to Scott. And Scott, thank God, didn’t try to push me. He would come over and would just sit with me in my room and do whatever I felt up to doing with me. But Thanksgiving came, and I didn’t know it, and my dad didn’t bring it up if he knew it. And when I realized the day after Thanksgiving that it had just gone by, I -- I got angry. _Really_ angry. I started yelling, and screaming, and I think I punched the floor at one point. It’s kind of a blur, I don’t remember what exactly I did.”

“And my dad came downstairs, and when I saw him, he just looked so...broken. Like he wasn’t sure he knew how to go on. And I broke down, and my dad came, and we just sat on the floor in the kitchen crying for a long time. And then my dad made me go to the hospital, because I broke two fingers punching the floor or whatever, and Scott and his mom came over the next day and stuffed us full of their leftovers. And the next Thanksgiving, I made myself learn how to cook my mom’s Thanksgiving meal, and we had Scott and his mom come over and eat it with us. And that’s just how it’s been ever since then.”

Derek doesn’t have a clue why Stiles is telling him this, although he’s touched that he’s allowed to hear it. He knows from experience that it’s not easy to tell that kind of story to someone, and it’s not a decision made on an impulse. So he’s honored. But he’s still confused.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Stiles doesn’t seem done. He looks like he’s steeling himself for something, and he’s turning his head back to Derek.

“Scott came over earlier,” Stiles continues, and Derek holds back any reaction he might have to that. “First he interrogated me for how I was acting earlier. And. Well, that’s just, that’s a thing. I didn’t want to deal with anyone. I didn’t want to hear anybody’s shit today. But I can’t shut out Scott, he knows me too well, and you, I just,” Stiles makes an annoyed noise and waves his arm. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Derek feels vaguely insulted, and he knows it shows on his face, because Stiles’s eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“No, dude, I don’t mean it that way,” he said, clearly frustrated. “I just -- Look, there’s a lot of emotions going on inside of me right now and I don’t have a fucking clue what half of them mean and I’m trying to work them out, okay? But right now is just not at all a good time for this to be happening, and I’m _trying_ to figure it out.”

Derek looks at Stiles, a few inches from his face, his eyes a little too bright and his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched, and he nods. He doesn’t completely follow Stiles’s train of thought, but he does understand that Stiles is overwhelmed, and so he won’t push it. It wouldn’t be fair.

Stiles’s eyes are searching Derek’s face urgently, like he’s trying to find something and absolutely has to find it. He seems to, because he suddenly lets out a sigh, and slumps to the mattress. Derek wants so badly to just move forward a few inches and kiss him on the nose, but he resists.

“On a lighter note, you and your sisters are invited to join the Stilinski-McCall Thanksgiving Extravaganza,” Stiles says, and Derek knows that’s the end of that conversation for a while. He doesn’t mind, partly because Stiles seems to be feeling better, and partly because he’s still holding Derek’s hand and isn’t showing any signs of letting go.

“I’m guessing they let you name it?” Derek says, because Stiles is looking at him with some apprehension, and Derek just wants that look to go away. He doesn’t want Stiles to be sad, he wants him to be grinning, and making dumb jokes, and making Derek ridiculously fond of him.

Oh yeah, Derek’s totally screwed.

It works, though, because Stiles just makes a face at him. “Bite me.”

He looks relieved, though, and asks, “So you guys are coming, right? My dad and Scott’s mom both work on Thanksgiving because there are other people who have bigger families who need that day off. So we celebrate the day afterwards. It’s partially because Black Friday. None of us are crazy enough to go out on that day. Why did anyone think that was a good idea? Wait, are you guys crazy enough to go out on Black Friday? What do you guys usually do?”

Derek shrugs. “I don’t know. We don’t usually do anything too special? I mean, we usually just watch the parade, play a game, and go out to eat.”

Stiles nods. “Well, you’re coming out to eat. But you’re doing it here. I’ll get you the details tomorrow, okay?”

Derek nods, and they both turn and look at the ceiling again. It takes a while, but they both sit back up and watch the movie, but Stiles doesn’t let go of Derek’s hand.

Derek will never admit to how happy that makes him.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Thanksgiving morning comes faster than Derek expects, and he’s being woken up by Cora to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade before he knows what’s happening. She’s extra excited this morning because it’s Thanksgiving, and she informs him of this fact several times before they even make it to the living room, where Laura’s waiting for them with mugs of hot chocolate. She gives them both a sleepy smile.

Derek settles down with Cora between him and Laura, like they always do, and they sit back to watch the parade. This is a tradition that their mom had started before Derek was even born. They would gather in the living room with hot chocolate and watch the parade. After the parade, they’d play a board game that always ended in the threat of being disowned, and then everyone would gather in the kitchen and they’d start getting assigned things to do for dinner. Derek was usually put in charge of keeping the younger kids amused in the living room. He never minded.

It still hurts, how much he misses them, and he knows it’ll always hurt. But for once, as he sits in the living room and listens to Cora talk excitedly about the giant Pikachu balloon, he’s not angry. He’s filled with grief, it’s true, but he’s also filled with gratitude. For Cora, and Laura. For the fact that he’s not alone. For the house they’re living in, and for all the friends he’s made since coming here, and for the way he’s starting to heal. He’s glad they came to Beacon Hills.

They get out The Game of Life. They used to end up fighting with each other until someone stomped off before the fire. The past couple of years involved silence and staring at each other, but today, they’re able to bring up some of the old banter, and it’s just the three of them instead of their big family, they try not to dwell on it.

After the game (which Cora wins), they get dressed and go to the nearest IHOP for pancakes, like the year before. This year is different, though, because while they’re not exactly talkative, it’s not quiet and tense. There’s even some laughter as they eat.

They end the day with a Marvel movie marathon, all spread out in the living room, and they all fall asleep where they are. Derek wakes up with Laura’s feet on his stomach and Cora curled up next to him and just smiles at the ceiling.

They’d promised to be over at the Stilinski house at one in the afternoon, so after Derek wakes both of his sisters up, they all take showers and get dressed, and then head over to the Stilinski house.

Sheriff Stilinski answers the door and lets them in, smiling at all three of them.

“Hi, Sheriff Stilinski!” Cora says brightly. The sheriff grins down at her.

“Hi, Cora. Hi, Derek. Hi, Laura. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Thank you, sir,” Derek says. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

“Derek!” Scott yells from the direction of the living room. “Dude, please tell me you know football!”

“I know football,” Derek says as he walks into the living room. “Laura knows it better. She was dating a football player for a while.”

Cora laughs. “Jacob. I remember. Don’t you still have his number?”

Laura’s blushing, but manages to stand up straight and say, “As a matter of fact, yes. I do.”

“Is this Jacob a nice guy?” Melissa asks from where she’s seated in one of the armchairs.

“He is, actually,” Laura says. “He’s graduating this spring. Said he’d like to see me if he could.”

Derek can’t hold back his smile. Jacob was a nice guy who Laura had broken up with when the fire had occurred. He’d understood and told her to call him if they needed anything. Derek had only met him once, but he knows Laura loved him. He hopes she can see him soon.

Derek’s pulled down on the couch next to Scott. He’s found that Scott has a tendency to drape himself over whoever he’s sitting next to (in the same way Stiles does), so he’s not surprised when he ends up with Scott’s legs in his lap as they yell at the referee like he can actually hear them. Stiles makes appearances randomly throughout the day, but always goes back into the kitchen. It smells _amazing_ , and Derek doesn’t hesitate to comment on it when Stiles pops into the living room for the fourth time. He gets a giant smile before Stiles disappears again.

Scott elbows Derek in the side and wiggles his eyebrows at him. Derek barely restrains his impulse to roll his eyes and whispers, “So what about you and Allison?”

To his surprise, Scott doesn’t look panicked like he did in the past. Instead he leans over and whispers, “I’m going to ask her out tomorrow when we meet up.”

“Really?” Derek raises an eyebrow. Then he remembers something and grins. “Don’t chicken out and I’ll share the money I win with you.”

Scott laughs and says, “Deal.”

It’s around that time that Stiles walks out of the kitchen, claps his hands and announces, “It is ready and if you’re not all at the table in thirty seconds I am starting without you.”

Derek snorts as Scott jumps up and beats Stiles to the table. He gets up and walks somewhat quickly to the table because he doesn’t know if Stiles is joking and doesn’t honestly want to know.

It takes them a moment to figure out where everyone is sitting, but eventually they’re settled. Derek is in between Cora and Stiles, with the sheriff on the other side of Stiles and Scott’s mom on the other side of him. Laura’s next to Cora, and Scott is between her and his mom. They take a moment in which Scott’s mom insists everyone say something they’re thankful for.

She starts by saying, “I’m thankful for Scott, and for my friends both old and new, and my co-workers who volunteered for the night shifts so I don’t have to take them.”

Scott goes next. “I’m thankful for Stiles’s ability to cook, Derek’s grumpy face, my mom, Allison, and lacrosse.”

Derek does _not_ laugh at that. Except he totally does, and Stiles high-fives Scott across the table.

Cora grins when everyone looks at her. “I’m thankful that we moved here, and for Stiles’s ability to make Derek laugh, and Derek letting me stay in his room when I have nightmares, and Laura.”

She beams at Derek, and he's not embarrassed, not even when Stiles turns to grin at him, too. He grins back at him and turns to Laura. She raises an eyebrow at him before clearing her throat.

“I’m thankful for Derek and Cora, and the house we’re in, and all of our new friends.”

She doesn’t even pause before turning to Derek and narrowing her eyes at him. He makes a face back at her before thinking quickly.

“I’m thankful for Laura and Cora, and Stiles, and Scott, and my other friends, and my art bag.”

He nods decisively when he’s done, and tries to ignore the giant grin Stiles is giving him, the thumbs-up from Scott, and the knowing looks from the rest of the table. He tries to hide by taking a drink of his water.

“I am thankful for my dad, my Jeep, Scott, Derek, my other friends, the Mets, and my mom’s recipes.”

Stiles says this confidently, and winks at Derek when he raises an eyebrow at him. He feels slightly embarrassed and hides his face by taking another drink. Someone kicks his leg, and he doesn’t know if it was Laura, Cora, or Scott, because they’re all three grinning at him like they’ve won the lottery. He prays the sheriff will go, because he needs a distraction, fast.

Finally, the sheriff says, “I’m thankful for Stiles, the fact that my deputies know how to do their jobs, our friends, and indoor plumbing.”

This gets a snort out of Derek, and Stiles says, “He says that every year.”

“I am thankful for indoor plumbing every year,” the sheriff says. “That has not changed. And likely won’t.”

“Aye, aye, daddy-o,” Stiles salutes him. Derek smirks into his plate. Scott laughs.

“Let’s eat,” Melissa is grinning, too, and the sheriff just sighs.

The food is as delicious as it smells, which doesn’t surprise Derek. He’s tasted Stiles’s cooking several times before, and he knows he’s good at it. He makes sure to compliment it, because it really is amazing, and he grins at Stiles when he thanks him.

Something about Thanksgiving makes Derek forget his usual limits when it comes to eating food, so he ends up eating too much. He’s definitely not sorry, though, and as he follows Scott and Stiles up to Stiles’s room to watch _Iron Man_ and ends up sprawled on Stiles’s bed next to Stiles with Scott laying on their legs, he can’t help but hope this is the beginning of a tradition.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fun chapter, and that's really all I have to say about it. Enjoy!
> 
> (PS, Derek's birthday is on Christmas in this fic.)

Derek’s very used to Stiles randomly knocking on his window at all times of day, so it’s not surprising when on Sunday afternoon, he’s interrupted from a his drawing by a loud rapping on the window. He _is_ surprised to see Scott sitting there instead of Stiles, and as he opens the window to let Scott in, he sees Stiles sticking his head out his window.

“I have to go to a family dinner with my dad’s parents in like a half an hour,” Stiles waves his hand around. “I can’t duck out of it and Scott’s kind of freaking out. Apparently his plan to ask Allison out actually succeeded and now he doesn’t know what to do. If we leave him alone he’ll talk himself out of the date and have himself convinced he’s worthless, he does that sometimes, and I trust you to distract him until I get back. I have to go take a shower and get dressed and somehow make my hair look like I actually brushed it, and that takes most of my concentration because, you know,” he gestures towards his hair, which is sticking up in all directions as usual, and grimaces. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Derek can’t help but smile. “You know he’s my friend, too, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles grins. “I’ll be over as soon as I’m back, okay? Don’t let him talk himself out of the date, I will kick both of your asses.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek rolls his eyes, and shuts the window, turning to Scott, who has claimed the bed and is staring at the ceiling. His eyes are wide and he looks pale. Derek silently sighs and then sits on the bed next to him.

“Alright, talk,” he says. “What are you thinking about?”

Scott rolls over and looks at Derek. “I asked her out and she said yes.”

“That’s great!” Derek says, hiding all exasperation he feels and grinning. “I’ll split my winnings with you.”

_That_ gets a smile, but Scott’s eyes are still wide. He opens his mouth and says, “What if we go out and everything goes horribly wrong? What if she realizes how much of a dork I am? Or that I’m not that smart? Or what if she just said yes because she feels bad for me? What if she doesn’t like me and we end up in a fight or something and she stops talking to me? What if --”

“Whoa, Scott,” Derek holds his hands up, staring at him. _Jesus_. “First off, Allison likes you as much as you like her. She did not say yes because she feels bad for you. Nothing is going to go wrong. And you’re plenty smart, just because you don’t have the highest grade in math doesn’t mean you’re dumb.”

Scott’s lying on his back again, but he’s looking at Derek this time, and he looks somewhat surprised. Derek can relate. He’s not usually good at pep talks, nor is he good at talking about emotions.

But then again, this is Scott, who quickly became one of Derek’s best friends, along with Stiles, who doesn’t push Derek to talk if he doesn’t want to and knows about his feelings towards Stiles. He thinks Scott’s worked his way up to being an exception to the rule.

It’s quiet for a few moments before Scott lets out a long breath and actually smiles at Derek. “Thanks.”

Derek just shrugs. “Want to watch a movie or something?”

Unsurprisingly, Scott wants to watch a _Wolverine_ movie, and they head down the the living room. Cora joins them, and as the Marvel logo appears on screen, Scott treats them both to a monologue of _Wolverine_ trivia, most of which Derek actually didn’t know and finds interesting. Derek has his sketchbook on his lap, and he’s been working on a sketch of Stiles sitting on the couch in the McCall living room (it has a fun pattern, and Derek’s been running out of places to draw Stiles). At the last minute, before starting to detail it, he looks up at Scott, who isn’t paying attention to him, and then back at the sketch.

He starts outlining Scott, sprawled on the couch with his legs across Stiles’s lap, holding his DS over his head. Once he finishes outlining it, and looks at it, he can’t help but grin at it, because it’s a scene similar to what he sees all the time when he’s invited over to Scott’s house. He’s not used to drawing Scott, so the details are a little rough, but it’s a start. He stops paying attention to the movie and isn’t finished by the time the movie ends and Scott starts bouncing.

“Dude,” he hears Scott say, and he looks up. “What are you so focused on?”

Cora’s already peeking over his shoulder and he just lets her, because this situation is different than the Stiles one. She raises an eyebrow when she looks at it, then grins. “He’s working on a drawing.”

“Can I see?” Scott asks hopefully.

“It’s not finished,” Derek shakes his head.

“Can I see it when it’s finished?” Scott asks, and he’s pulled out his puppy eyes. Derek thanks the Lord he’d fallen for Stiles instead of Scott, because those eyes would get him to agree to almost anything. He salutes Allison and her will.

“Maybe,” Derek says slowly. He’s been slowly convincing himself to consider the idea of showing Stiles and the rest of their group his drawings, but now doesn’t feel like the right time. Especially since the drawing is so rough. He doesn’t feel like he got it right (and good Lord, he’s going to have to practice drawing Scott’s head, his uneven jaw will be an interesting challenge).

Scott just shrugs and says, “Are you coming with us to see _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ on opening night?”

They’ve moved back up to Derek’s room and are discussing possible costume choices for the premiere when they’re both startled by a knock on the window. Stiles is there, head resting on the glass, and gives the window a pointed look. Derek gets up and opens it, moving out of the way so Stiles can climb in.

“I bring chocolate,” Stiles says as he slides in through the window. He raises an eyebrow at Scott, who is seated on Derek’s bed, bouncing slightly and looking at Stiles expectantly. “And here I thought it’d be needed more.”

“Ha, ha,” Scott says, holding his hands out. “Gimme.”

Stiles pulls out a package of Reeses and tosses it at Scott, who catches it and immediately tears it open. Derek grins and sits back on the bed, leaving room for Stiles between them. Stiles plops down and says, “Holy crap, I am very tired.”

“Maybe you should actually sleep at night,” Derek teases, taking the Reeses he’s passed. Stiles makes a face at him.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“So you’re not tired?”

“You two are killing me,” Scott groans, and lets himself fall backwards. Stiles grabs Derek’s pillow from behind Derek and hits Scott on the face with it.

“You have no room to speak, dude, you waited over a _year_ before you did anything.”

Scott moves the pillow off of his face and says, “So learn from my mistakes?”

Stiles snorts. “Very noble, buddy, using your pining as a lesson. Thank you.”

“No problem, man,” Scott says and sits up again. “I should probably go home. My mom will be back soon, and I want to put off any questions until a later date, thank you.”

Stiles snorts. “Yeah, good luck.”

Scott stands. “We who are about to die salute you,” he says, and clumsily salutes them. He grabs the package of Reeses and runs out the door.

“Give those back, you thief!” Stiles calls after him, but doesn’t bother to get up. Derek laughs and falls backwards onto the bed and Stiles follows his lead. It’s quiet until Stiles yawns and asks, “So what the hell did you say to him? When I left, he was freaking out.”

Derek shrugs. “Didn’t say much. Just told him the truth.”

Stiles turns his head and raises an eyebrow at Derek. “Right. Okay. As long as it worked, man.”

“We watched _Wolverine_ , too.”

“Just imagine I’m surprised, okay, I’m too tired to act like it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

They start preparing for Christmas a week after Thanksgiving. Scott and Allison have a great first date, to absolutely no one’s surprise, and Scott shows up at Derek’s house the day after the date with a bright smile and treats Derek to a play-by-play of the date. Derek has a feeling Stiles somehow pushed this onto him, which is later confirmed when Stiles shows up in his room with an innocent look on his face and says, “Have a nice day?”

As the days go by and Christmas comes closer, Derek realizes he doesn’t know what to get anyone, nor can he really afford to buy anyone anything. Most of his money is going to his presents for Laura (a spa day, because she takes care of Derek and Cora and doesn’t complain) and Cora (a new bike, with Laura’s permission of course). He’s starting to panic when Stiles notices and tells him not to worry about it.

“Dude, some of us have money and some of us don’t. We get it if you can’t afford anything. Don’t feel bad.”

Which doesn’t technically make Derek feel any better, because he knows Stiles and Scott are both planning on getting him a present, and he’s pretty sure he heard Lydia mention one for him, too. He takes his panic to Laura and Cora. Laura doesn’t have any suggestions, but Cora blinks at him and says, “I thought it was obvious. Just draw them.”

Derek hadn’t thought of this, and hugs Cora so hard she squeaks. Then he heads up to his room and opens his sketch book. He’s definitely got plenty of Stiles to pick from, and picks his favorite one, one he’d drawn recently of Stiles, sitting on the roof, his eyes closed and his face upturned. Then he flips to a new page, and gets to work on Scott.

He had to stop and start several times on all of them, and ends up gathering pictures of all of them for reference. Two weeks later on the 21st, the day of group’s Christmas party (most of the group is out of town on the 25th, so they get together earlier), he’s finally finished. He has Laura inspect each of them carefully before placing them into manila folders and labelling them. Then he hurries out to Stiles’s Jeep to hitch a ride to Lydia’s house.

Derek has to stop when he sees Stiles, because Stiles is wearing _reindeer ears_ and the most ridiculous sweater Derek’s ever seen. It has what looks like a stuffed reindeer sewed to the front of it and tinsel decorating it. He can’t quite hold back the laugh. Stiles just beams at him.

“Great, isn’t it?” he asks cheerfully. “I’ve got one for you, too. It’s a tradition, you can’t say no.”

Derek’s about to protest when he sees Scott walk up to the Jeep in another ridiculous sweater. It’s red and green, and says ‘Fruit Cake’ in colorful letters. He sighs and says, “Fine.”

Stiles tosses him a green sweater and he turns it around to see a picture of Elvis with a Santa hat on. He starts to laugh. “Where the hell did you find this?”

“That particular one was found in a thrift store three months ago,” Stiles says. “We look everywhere for them. You should see Lydia trying to find them, she’s scary good at it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Derek shakes his head and pulls off his jacket before pulling the sweater on over his shirt. He looks down at it and just shakes his head at it.

“You look absolutely marvelous,” Stiles says in a posh voice. “Don’t you agree, my dear Scott?”

Scott just laughs.

Isaac and Erica show up a few moments later (both wearing ridiculous sweaters; Isaac’s has a quilt-like pattern while Erica’s has Christmas baubles placed directly over her chest) and they’re on their way to Lydia’s. Derek has to admit that he feels better when he sees that even Jackson has on a crazy sweater (his says Jingle Bells above a sleigh) and places his envelopes under the tree as directed.

“Wait, so you did get us presents?” Scott asks, eyes wide. “What did you get us?”

Derek raises an eyebrow at him. “Wouldn’t that ruin the surprise?”

“ _Dude_ ,” Scott whines. Stiles smacks him on the back of the head.

“He does that every year,” Erica informs Derek. “Scott’s the worst at waiting for his presents out of all of us.”

Derek tries not to laugh at the look Scott’s giving Stiles and nods. Lydia comes out into the living room and announces, “Lunch first, then presents.”

Scott groans and gets a dirty look from Lydia. He immediately ducks behind Allison, who just laughs and pulls him out from behind her, kissing his cheek as she does so. Stiles mimes gagging behind them, and Derek snorts.

They head into the dining room, where there’s a glazed ham and several side dishes waiting for them. Derek raises an eyebrow, but before he can ask, Stiles says, “Oh, Lydia, you went all out. Your cooking is divine. Who actually made it?”

Lydia doesn’t even blink at him. “My aunt did. The caterer. I just have to give each of you her card.”

Derek snorts again, because he’s definitely not the only one who can’t afford catering, but makes no comment. He gets a grin from Scott and Isaac and a wink from Stiles, who clearly all know what he’s thinking.

They sit down and start eating. It’s not much different from any other time they hang out, except for the sweaters. The talk turns to lacrosse, as it so often does, and Derek realizes he actually keeps up with their lacrosse talk now. He tries not to groan and doesn’t entirely succeed. Luckily, only Erica hears him, and she just winks at him.

“Derek, are you _sure_ you’re not gonna play lacrosse?” Scott asks for the hundredth time. Derek grits his teeth before shaking his head.

“I don’t want to play lacrosse,” he somehow manages to keep his voice steady.

“Are there any sports you do play?” Danny asks curiously.

“I used to play baseball,” Derek says, and beside him, he sees Stiles throw him a careful look. No doubt he remembers the last time this was brought up. Derek remembers it clearly. But he’s in control today, and he’s given this a fair amount of thought. “I was thinking about playing again.”

“Really?” Erica leans forward. “You do seem like the baseball type.”

“Um, thank you?” Derek’s not sure if he’s being complimented or insulted, but he’s distracted before he can ask.

“Beacon Hills High has a fairly decent baseball team,” Lydia says.

“What position?” Scott asks, looking interested.

“I was a pitcher,” Derek says.

Jackson snorts. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

Derek raises an eyebrow at him, almost positive he’s being insulted now. Stiles flips Jackson off before saying, “Aren’t tryouts for the team at the end of January or something? We could help you prepare.”

Jackson’s grinning now. “You gonna catch for him?”

Stiles bats his eyelashes at him. “Would you like to, Jacky?”

Derek has the feeling he’s missing a crucial piece of this conversation. He doesn’t want to know. He just shakes his head. Stiles and Jackson are glaring at each other now. Scott’s whispering to Allison. Isaac is forcefully eating his food, like he doesn’t want any part of this, and Lydia looks annoyed. Erica is studying Derek with an intense look that makes him deeply uncomfortable, and Boyd is just eating quietly.

Luckily, they finish eating without another incident, and Lydia gets up and says, “I hope everyone saved room for dessert.”

Derek knows he doesn’t imagine the looks that go around the room and wonders what he’s missing this time. He throws Stiles a questioning look, but just gets a shrug in return and rolls his eyes.

Lydia comes back into the room carrying a cake and says, “So, Derek, is there anything you want to confess to?”

Derek blinks at her as she puts the cake in front of him. It says ‘Happy Birthday, Derek’ in icing on it, and Derek feels his mouth fall open before he looks up.

“How the _fuck_ \--?” He hadn’t told anyone his birthday was the same day as Christmas. He doesn’t like celebrating his birthday. Too many memories are brought up by it.

“You’re not about to admit to keeping it from us on purpose, are you?” Lydia is glaring daggers. Derek clears his throat, where a lump has mysteriously appeared. He opens his mouth and has to let out a breath before he’s able to speak.

“It’s not -- I don’t like to celebrate it. There’s just --,” he doesn’t know how to say this, because he hasn’t told anyone but Stiles about the fire and he doesn’t know if Stiles has told anyone. He’s willing to bet they’ve all figured out that something had happened, but he doesn’t know how specific their information is.

Stiles clearly understands, from the way he’s looking horror struck. Lydia also looks somewhat softer, and she says, “Oh. We just --.”

“No, it’s okay,” Derek feels the need to speak up before she can finish. “You didn’t -- Thank you. Seriously.”

He means it, and Lydia seems to get that, because she gives him a genuine smile and says, “Well, we won’t sing for you, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Thank God,” Scott sighs in relief. “I don’t need to hear how tone-deaf you all are.”

Derek laughs, and it breaks the tension in the room. Stiles throws his napkin at Scott and says, “Rub it in, why don’t you?”

“Can you sing, Derek?” Erica asks.

Derek shakes his head. “Not at all. Cora and Laura are okay. I am terrible.”

“Ruins the whole image he projects, doesn’t it?” Stiles says to Erica.

Erica’s frowning, but there’s a playful look in her eye. “Only partially. He still has the artist part down. Find him a coffee shop somewhere and it’ll be fine.”

Derek rolls his eyes. Scott’s starting to bounce in his seat and says, “Can we eat cake now?”

“You just want to open presents,” Allison laughs.

Lydia cuts the cake for everyone and passes out pieces. She gives Derek an apologetic look, and when he’s done and gets up to put his plate in the kitchen, she follows him.

“I really am sorry,” she says softly as he puts it down. “I don’t know any specifics, but -- I didn’t mean to bring anything up.”

“It’s okay,” Derek says. “Really. You didn’t know, I didn’t tell anyone, and I’m not upset.”

Lydia lets out a breath and then gives him a smile. “Let’s go open presents before Scott passes out from excitement.”

They gather in the living room. Jackson is recruited by Lydia to hand out presents and does so somewhat impatiently. Derek tries not to laugh when Lydia lectures him on being careful with the presents. Stiles has no such problem and gives Jackson a shit-eating grin when he hands him his next present.

Finally, when all the presents have been distributed, Lydia announces they’re all opening one present at a time, going alphabetical by last name. Jackson rolls his eyes, but everyone agrees.

Allison opens her gift from Scott first, and gets a bracelet. Derek privately thinks it’s a little over-the-top, but Allison loves it and rewards Scott with a kiss. Before it can go too far, Boyd pulls out a present at random and opens it loudly. Derek has to laugh.

It turns out he’s opened his from Danny, and it’s a jersey signed by Boyd’s favorite football player. Derek barely knows anything about Boyd’s team (the 49-ers) but he knows all about Vernon Davis. He’s number 85, tight end, owns an art gallery, and has the same first name as Boyd (who doesn’t particularly like his first name). Derek knows Boyd wants to have the same sort of career as Vernon Davis. Boyd grins and thanks Danny.

Then it’s Derek’s turn, and he pulls Lydia’s present to him first. He pulls it open and sees a leather jacket sitting there. He raises an eyebrow, but pulls it out and pulls it on. It’s a perfect fit, which is slightly terrifying since he doesn’t remember giving Lydia his measurements, but he grins at Lydia just the same. It _is_ an awesome jacket.

Isaac opens his present from Erica, which turns out to be a gift card for iTunes, and Danny opens his present from Jackson (a fake ID, because apparently Danny’s been wanting to go to Jungle, the gay bar in town but can’t get in). Lydia opens a pair of boots from Allison, and Scott, who has been leaning forward in anticipation, rips open his present from Stiles (a new bike helmet). Erica takes her time opening her present from Boyd, saving the paper just to annoy everyone. Derek’s snickering when she finally gets to the box and opens it to see a pair of earrings and a necklace to match.

Then it’s Stiles’s turn, and he reaches down and pulls out the envelope from Derek. He looks curiously at it, and Derek feels his stomach clench as Stiles opens it. He pulls out the paper inside slowly, and when he’s got it out and is looking at it, his eyes go wide.

“What is it?” Scott asks, leaning over Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles swats at him and looks up.

“Did you draw this?” he asks, and Derek nods. Stiles’s face breaks out in a smile.

“Holy shit, dude,” he says. “It’s awesome.”

“You did a drawing?” Erica looks curious and goes to look, but Stiles snatches it away before she can see it.

“Go get your own!” he says.

“Is that what these are?” Scott asks, pulling his own envelope out and looking at Derek with wide eyes. “You did drawings of us all?”

Derek, not wanting to ruin the surprise, just shrugs, and Jackson doesn’t hesitate to pull his own envelope out, clearly curious. Derek feels ridiculously proud as Jackson pulls his own out and looks at it, one eyebrow raised. He’d drawn Jackson in his lacrosse uniform (he’d found a picture in Stiles’s yearbook from the year before and used it as reference).

“Not bad,” he says, nodding. Derek tries not to grin.

Allison looks indecisive before pulling out her envelope, too, giving Derek a bright smile as she pulls it out and gasps.

“Can I see it?” Scott’s whining again. Allison takes pity on him and lets him see. Derek had taken a picture of her when she’d been teaching the rest of them archery and had decided of all the things he could have drawn, that particular picture fit her best.

“Dude, that’s amazing,” Scott says. Allison gives him another smile.

“Thank you,” she says. Derek just gives her a smile back.

Boyd looks down at his stack of presents and lets out a sigh before pulling out his own envelope. He opens it carefully and studies it for a few seconds. Derek had picked a picture of Boyd at a football game, standing on the sideline with his helmet in his hand. Boyd looks up and nods at Derek.

Derek nods back and picks up his gift from Scott. It’s unsurprisingly the animated _Wolverine and the X-Men_ series on DVD, and he thanks Scott, since he’d talked about wanting to watch it. Scott grins back before turning to Isaac, who pulls out his envelope, and Derek wonders if everyone is going to open their own.

The answer is yes. Isaac opens his to reveal a picture of the time Isaac had successfully had the fastest time at a cross country meet and once back on the bus on the way home, had stood up on a seat and put both fists in the air. Stiles had gotten a picture, and Derek had managed to convince him to give him a copy.

Danny pulls his out to see a picture of him holding his trumpet and grinning to the side. Derek had taken that picture himself. He’d had a hard time picking one out for Danny and had enlisted Cora’s help. She’d found that one on his phone and had suggested it.

Lydia’s is of her in her Homecoming dress. Derek hadn’t gone to Homecoming, but he’d seen her dress plenty of times. It’s red, and long, and the layers had been incredibly hard for Derek to draw. He’d tried several times before finally doing it the way he’d wanted to. She gives him a dazzling smile.

Scott’s nearly exploding with excitement when they finally get to him, but he takes his out carefully. Derek had decided that for Scott, he’d needed a picture of him at the animal clinic. He’d gone to Scott’s mom and asked, and found one of Scott lifting a dog. It had been exactly what Derek had been hoping for, and Scott grins as he sees it.

Erica’s is last, and she pulls hers out without missing a beat and then grins at Derek. It’s of her laying on her front lawn, suntanning. Derek couldn’t resist, but he’d added _Othello_ into the picture, because he knows it’s her favorite Shakespeare play (they’d once had a very long discussion on it).

Derek is relieved that everyone seems to like their gift, and opens his next gift (from Danny) with a newfound excitement. It’s a new pencil set, identical to his current one, and he stares at it for a few seconds. They’re _expe_ _nsiv_ _e,_ and he thanks Danny repeatedly. Danny waves it off with smile.

He gets a Barnes and Noble’s gift card from Erica, another new jacket (not leather this time, but equally as nice) from Jackson, a box of Isaac’s special hot chocolate mix, a nice shirt from Allison, and a new copy of A Game of Thrones from Boyd. It takes him a couple minutes to realize he hadn’t gotten a present from Stiles, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t bring it up. He’s not sure how to take this, and can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed as he packs his haul in the bag he’d brought especially for his Christmas loot and thanks everyone for their gifts.

He walks with Stiles out to the Jeep. Scott and Erica are loudly debating who gave the better presents behind them, while Isaac’s quietly humming ‘Jingle Bells,’ and Derek has to grin as he settles in the back between Scott and Isaac.

It’s somewhat chaotic as Stiles parks his Jeep and everyone climbs out and heads back towards their house. Derek can hear the others calling, “Merry Christmas!” and yells it back. He’s so distracted by this that he doesn’t immediately notice that Stiles has followed him into his house.

“Hi, Stiles!” Laura says from the couch, grinning at both of them. “How was the party?”

“Amazing, as all of Lydia’s parties are,” Stiles says easily, ignoring Derek’s curious look at him. “She’s one hell of an organizer, that’s for sure.”

He elbows Derek. Derek blinks in surprise and blurts out the first thing in his mind. “They got me a birthday cake.”

Now Laura’s surprised. She’s somewhat cautious as she says, “Oh? And how did that go?”

“Well, the cake was delicious,” Derek says. “And nobody sang, so there’s that.”

The tension leaves Laura as immediately as it had appeared, and she smiles. “Well, good. Cake is an important thing.”

Derek snorts. “Right. We’re gonna go upstairs.”

Laura nods and grins at them. Derek fights the urge to roll his eyes until she can’t see it anymore, and leads Stiles up to his bedroom.

As soon as he shuts the door, he turns to Stiles and gives him a confused look. “Why didn’t you go to your own house?”

“I didn’t give you your gift yet,” Stiles says nonchalantly. Derek doesn’t know what to say to that and decides to just sit down on his bed and gesture for Stiles to proceed.

Stiles looks uncharacteristically nervous. “Okay, so I genuinely had no idea what to get you for Christmas. I had an idea, but then I found out it was your birthday, too, and that I would have to get you _two_ presents --.”

“No, you don’t,” Derek interjects, but Stiles completely ignores him, continuing like he hadn’t been interrupted.

“ -- So I tried to brainstorm a second gift and basically I just decided that for Christmas, even though it’s totally lame and probably doesn’t count as a present, I was going to finally own up to my emotions -- which is _not_ something I do often, so mark it down on your calendar -- and ask you out on a date. There may also have been some sort of threat from Lydia if I didn’t resolve this before Christmas that helped this thinking along, but you know, whatever, it works out.”

Derek can feel his mouth is open as Stiles turns toward him and says, “Alright then. So. Derek Hale, would you go on a date with me?”

Derek just _knows_ his face is red as he struggles to catch up with what’s just happened. He doesn’t honestly know if he can say anything, so he just nods.

“Oh, thank God,” Stiles sighs in relief and collapses onto the bed next to Derek. “That would have been _really_ awkward if you’d said no.”

Derek has to laugh at that. Stiles grins up at him from where he’s lying on the bed, and Derek lets himself lie down to join him in their customary position. He turns his head to look at Stiles and says, “So, we’re going on a date, huh? When and where?”

“Tomorrow, at seven,” Stiles says. “In the evening, because who the fuck gets up before noon on break?”

Derek grins again. “People who actually have lives.”

“I am calling your bullshit, man, you do not have a life,” Stiles laughs. “Neither do I, but that’s not important. Who asked you?”

“Technically, you did,” Derek says. Stiles rolls his eyes, but he’s still grinning.

Their faces are closer together than they usually are, and the usual urge to kiss Stiles is there. This time, he doesn’t fight it. Stiles meets him halfway.

Stiles’s lips are soft. Derek had known they would be; he spends a probably inappropriate amount of time looking at them (Stiles talks _so much_ , it’s impossible not to notice them constantly), but it’s amazing to have confirmation of that observation. Stiles has a hand on Derek’s cheek now, and is pulling him closer, and Derek follows his lead, like he has been since he’d moved here.

Finally, they have to pull apart. They’re both breathing hard, and Stiles’s eyes are wide, and Derek can feel that his face is red again. It’s quiet for a minute, and then Stiles lets out a whoop of celebration, and Derek jumps at the sudden noise.

“Sorry!” now Stiles is turning red. “I just -- I’ve wanted to do that for _months_ , and it was pretty much what I wanted it to be -- so, yeah, sorry.”

Derek decides he fucking loves Christmas.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late in the day, guys. It's July 4th and I've been busy. Happy fourth of July to my American readers, and to everybody else, hope you had a nice day!
> 
> It's the date chapter! Hooray! The Paramount Theatre in this chapter is based off [the one in Abilene, Texas](http://paramount-abilene.org/) and is a place I hope to one day to go.
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek tries really hard not to panic as he pulls out a shirt. “I told you already, I don’t know what we’re doing or where we’re going.”

Erica snorts from where she’s seated on his bed. “I don’t even care, I’m too busy being relieved that you two actually finally did something about this. Jesus _Christ_ , I thought we were going to have to deal with this until graduation.”

“Ha, ha,” Derek says, injecting as much sarcasm as he can into the words. “Are you two going to actually help me, or are you just here to laugh at me?”

“I did my laughing before I came over,” Lydia says breezily. “I’m here to make sure you look as hot as possible.”

Derek wonders how the hell this happened. “Okay, then, do what you will, I guess.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Lydia winks at him and pulls out a pair of dark skinny jeans he doesn’t remember buying himself, his new shirt from Allison, and his new leather jacket. “Go. Dress. Hurry, I don’t have all day.”

Derek raises an eyebrow and heads into the bathroom to change. Cora’s waiting in the hall when he comes out, and she grins at him.

“So you _do_ have a hot date!” she says delightedly. “Laura! It’s true!”

“Stiles did ask him out?” Laura’s voice comes from downstairs. “Finally! Thank God! I was suffocating on the UST.”

“Why is this happening to me?” Derek stares at the ceiling.

“Because we’re awesome,” Cora says, and pushes past him into the bathroom. He can hear Lydia and Erica laughing from his room and wonders what would happen if he just snuck out.

The amount of work he’d have to do to get back on their good sides isn’t worth it, he decides, as he reluctantly walks back into his room. Lydia nods in approval and tosses his shoes at him.

“I doubt you’ll end up doing anything that requires you to be more dressed up,” she says. “Neither one of you would feel comfortable there.”

Derek pretends he isn’t relieved by that. “Thanks. For your help, I mean.”

“Someone has to make sure you boys look acceptable,” Lydia sounds dismissive, though she has a small smile on her face. “Just don’t hurt him. You’ll never have a moment of peace in your life again if you do.”

“Stiles is getting a similar threat,” Erica says lazily. “From the boys, of course, because for some reason they seem to think they’re more intimidating.”

Privately, Derek doesn’t agree. But then again, he has two sisters who can be pretty terrifying when they team up. He’s learned from experience. “That just makes them easier to trick.”

“I knew you were my favorite for a reason,” Lydia brushes an imaginary speck of dust off of Derek’s shoulder. “Now, for the advice portion of helping you get ready: be yourself because Stiles likes you. A lot. Don’t let him do anything you don’t want to do, although knowing Stiles, he won’t. He’s pretty good about that. Don’t expect too much out of the first date, it _is_ a first date after all. Try not to feel too nervous. And _communicate_.”

Derek gives her a smile. “Thanks. You, too, Erica.”

Erica gives a thumbs-up before pushing herself off of his bed.

“No problem,” Lydia smiles at him, too.“We’re going to Erica’s now, so you don’t feel crowded. When you get home, you’re to call me immediately. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Derek says as he nods. Lydia and Erica both hug him and then they leave. Derek checks the time and sees he has twenty minutes until he’s supposed to meet Stiles outside. He shifts nervously and then grabs his phone and his art bag and heads down the stairs to join Laura on the couch. She’s watching _NCIS_ and looks at him when he comes in.

“You look nice,” she says when he sits down next to her.

“Yeah, thanks to Lydia,” Derek says. Laura smiles. Derek can sense she has something to say and waits for her to speak.

She does, after a few moments. “I’m glad you found this group of friends.”

Derek looks at her. That wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting. Laura nods before continuing.

“They’ve been really good for you. At first I wasn’t really sure about them, because you don’t really open up to people, that’s the way you are. I’m not saying you should change. But they seemed to have accepted that, and I know they don’t push you when you have a tough time, and they seem supportive. I’m grateful for that.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods. Laura smiles at him again. “I’m glad you found Stiles. That boy adores you.”

Derek feels his face turning red as he rubs the back of his neck. He can’t hide the grin on his face, though and Laura winks at him.

“You’re a responsible kid, Derek, so I’m not going to lecture you about being safe,” she continues. “Go have fun, be a teenager, say hi to Stiles for me, and be home before midnight, okay?”

Derek nods. “Thanks, Laura.”

She leans over and hugs him from the side. “When are you leaving?”

Derek checks the time. “In ten minutes.”

Laura nods. “Great, so you can watch the rest of this episode with me.”

Derek grins and sits back to watch _NCIS_.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Stiles is standing next to his Jeep when Derek goes out the front door. He’s bouncing in place and his face splits into a grin when he sees Derek. Derek can’t help but grin back when he sees him, and he gives a small wave before locking the door and then hurrying over to the Jeep.

“Hey,” Stiles says when Derek gets close enough.

“Hey,” Derek says back. His nerves are acting up again, but he’s excited, too, and he tries not to feel awkward. Stiles shifts his weight like he’s not sure what to do, and apparently decides on opening the passenger side door for Derek. Derek tries not to grin as he gets in, even though Stiles’s face is slightly red.

“So where are we going?” he asks as Stiles gets into the Jeep.

“I, in an utterly lame attempt to impress you, am taking you to my favorite place in all of Beacon Hills,” Stiles says, starting to the car. “And no, you haven’t been there yet. It’s kind of a secret favorite place of mine. I think only Scott and probably Lydia know that I like it so much.”

_That_ makes Derek curious. “And that place is?”

“You’ll see,” Stiles gives him a grin and pulls out of the driveway.

The secret favorite place of Stiles’s turns out to be a theatre. The sign on the front of the building says The Paramount. It’s an older looking building, and Derek’s somewhat surprised as Stiles grabs his hand and pulls him towards the building.

“This is the Paramount Theatre,” he tells Derek. “It opened in 1930, and the inside is _gorgeous_. You’ll love it, I promise.”

He buys two tickets for _The Wizard of Oz_ , never letting go of Derek’s hand, and then leads Derek into the building.

As soon as they’re in the lobby, Derek stops dead. Stiles is right. It’s beautiful. The room is tall and open, with two stories. The walls are a light red, and the second floor overlooks the rest of the lobby. But Derek’s favorite part is the elaborate light fixture. It hangs down from the ceiling, and is made of what looks like brass and glass, with an intricate design that Derek’s fingers itch to draw.

Stiles is grinning when he looks at him. “Told you.”

“This is amazing,” Derek says honestly.

“Wait until we get into the actual theatre,” Stiles says. Derek grins and walks with Stiles to the concessions.

There’s a pause as they try to figure out whose turn it is to pay for their snacks. Ever since the first time Derek went to the movies with the group, he and Stiles have been taking turns paying for the other’s popcorn and drink. It’s turned into a joke with their friends. Derek doesn’t understand why they find it so funny, but he doesn’t mind.

Eventually they remember that it’s Derek’s turn to pay for the snacks, and they get popcorn and drinks before Stiles excitedly pulls Derek towards the theatre door.

Derek doesn’t stop moving this time, mainly because Stiles is pulling him along, but his breath is caught in his throat as he sees the room. It’s huge, with what looks like a stage in front, though the curtains are closed. There’s a balcony above them, and when Derek looks at the ceiling, he sees lights twinkling like stars. Stiles pulls him down into a seat about halfway to the front while Derek’s still staring at the ceiling and says, “So?”

“This is amazing,” Derek repeats as he looks at Stiles.

Stiles grins. “I’m glad you like it. This, uh, this is where my dad took my mom on their first date. And my mom used to bring me here all the time when I was younger. Sometimes I come here just to feel close to her, you know? And I guess I decided on here for our first date because I wanted her to meet you, in a way. I think she really would have liked you.”

Derek blinks in surprise. He’s awed that Stiles would share that with him. He knows how hard it can be to share memories like that with other people. God knows he doesn’t like sharing them with anyone.

He squeezes Stiles’s hand. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Stiles smiles, though his eyes are a little sad. “Thanks for appreciating it.”

Derek just nods back before reaching out and grabbing some popcorn out of the bucket on Stiles’s lap. He’s still eating the handful when the lights dim, and the curtains open, revealing a movie screen. He grins and sits back to watch the movie, still holding Stiles’s hand.

_The Wizard of Oz_ is one of Derek’s favorite movies. He’s not sure if Stiles knew that beforehand or not, but he wouldn’t be surprised. He whispers the lines along with the movie, and grins at Stiles’s commentary. They finish the popcorn before the movie is over, and Stiles finishes his soda first and very obviously reaches over and steals Derek’s drink for a sip before putting it back in the cup holder. Derek tries not to laugh.

When the movie is over, Stiles leads Derek back out to the Jeep, still holding hands. He leans against the driver’s side door when they get to it and grabs Derek’s other hand, pulling him close.

“I think,” he says, grinning at Derek, “that we should kiss again. It was pretty awesome last time.”

Derek grins back and leans forward, pressing his lips to Stiles’s. This kiss is sweeter than the last, full of promise and Derek pulls away sooner than last time, but Stiles still grins at him.

“I was right!” he says, and Derek blinks in surprise, completely thrown off by this switch of subject.

“Okay?”

“I _told_ you you’d love me!” Stiles grins and leans forward again, pressing a quick kiss to Derek’s lips before pulling back. “Remember?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Damn straight!” Stiles winks. “Did you eat dinner? I’m _hungry_ , and I also don’t want this date to end yet.”

Derek ignores the warm feeling that rushes through him at that confession and nods. He backs up, letting Stiles step away from Jeep and walks around to the passenger side.

Stiles pulls into the parking lot of a 24/7 diner five minutes later. At the last second, Derek grabs his art bag and lets Stiles pull him into the diner, finding a booth in the back. Stiles throws a curious look at the bag when Derek puts it down next to him, but doesn’t say anything.

Derek waits until the waitress has gone off to get them their drinks before pulling out his sketchbook. He’s been thinking about showing Stiles what’s inside it for a while now, and Stiles showing him the theater, a place that’s clearly important to him, seals the deal for him.

Stiles is watching him, but still doesn’t say anything until Derek says, “So, even before the fire, I drew all the time. I’ve never really been good at words, and so drawing seemed like a logical choice to communicate what I’m feeling. I lost a lot of art in the fire, and since then, most of my sketches have been of things that I’ve dreamt about, or am angry about. I wasn’t allowed to show Cora most of my drawings, because they would set her off, and only Laura was allowed to see this sketchbook. It’s nearly full now, which is actually a huge accomplishment, seeing as I haven’t filled one since the fire.”

He puts the sketchbook down on the table and pushes it across to Stiles. “I, uh, I don’t know if you’re really going to want to see the stuff at the beginning? Some of it’s kind of disturbing. But, uh, the rules of looking in my sketchbook are don’t touch the sketches, only touch the edges, and don’t make any changes to it. Not that I think you would, that’s just a general rule.”

Stiles looks at the sketchbook, eyes wide, then looks up at Derek. “You’re letting me look inside it?”

Derek nods. Stiles looks back down at the book, then carefully, almost reverently, opens it to the front page. It’s nothing but flames, Derek remembers that. Stiles’s face does something funny, like he’s upset, but it’s gone before Derek can really see it.

Stiles turns the pages carefully, going from the flames to the distorted pictures of various family members burning. Derek winces when Stiles pauses on one that looks like Laura, her face twisted and screaming. Stiles doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look up when the waitress comes back with their drinks, and doesn’t respond when she asks if they’re ready to order.

“I think we need a little bit more time,” Derek says apologetically, and the waitress nods and walks away. Stiles turns the page again and it shows a picture of Derek, his body deformed and his face open in a growl, eyes glaring straight ahead.

_This_ gets a reaction out of Stiles, a quick intake of breath, and Stiles reaches across the table and grabs Derek’s hand before flipping the page yet again. There were several different pictures of Derek, and Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand tighter and tighter until he gets to a picture that isn’t of Derek.

“That’s the picture I was working on when we met,” Derek says softly. “Our house, before it burned. I worked on that picture for a _year_ , but I’d always mess something up, and I’d rip it out and start all over again. It had to be perfect, I couldn’t -- it couldn’t have any mistakes.”

Stiles looks up then for the first time, and his face is sympathetic, but not pitying. It makes Derek relax slightly.

“It’s not finished,” Stiles points out. Derek nods.

“I sort of found something else to draw.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow and turns the page. His eyes widen again, and he stares at the picture for a moment before looking up at Derek.

“ _Me_?” and he sounds so shocked and surprised that Derek has to suppress an eye roll.

“Yeah,” he nods. “You. That’s the first thing I’d drawn in a year that wasn’t of the house, and it’s the first one I’d finished in a year, too. I drew it the day you took me and Cora to the library, when it was raining? You kinda plopped down on my bed, and, well…”

Stiles looks back down at it. “Wow. Just, _wow_. That’s so...I don’t even know.”

“Are you speechless?” Derek asks, somewhat surprised, feeling a grin form on his face. “Should I take a video, or do you think the others will believe me?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You’re so funny.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Stiles grins, but he’s still enraptured by the picture he’s looking at. He reaches out towards it but doesn’t touch it, tracing the lines in the air with his finger.

“There are others,” Derek says slowly, and Stiles looks up and then turns the page again. He goes through all of the pictures of him, his smile getting bigger as he goes, and stops on the first one Derek had drawn Scott in.

“When did you decide to add Scott in?” he asks curiously.

“The night you dumped him on me before his date,” Derek answers. Stiles grins. “I finally realized Scott’s probably my best friend besides you, and started drawing him while we were watching _Wolverine_.”

“You should show him,” Stiles says eagerly, looking up again. “Scott’s literally got like the lowest self-esteem of anyone I’ve ever met, he’ll love you forever.”

Derek grins. “Maybe I will. You were right when you said I’d like him, too.”

“That’s because I’m a genius,” Stiles doesn’t miss a beat as he turns the page and finds one of Scott and Allison, holding hands. “This is unbearably cute. Look, you even got the lovesick expression on Scott’s face right, and her dimples. You should definitely show Scott this one, he’ll try to buy it off you.”

Derek snorts. “I might just give it to him.”

“No, no, no, take the Joker’s advice,” Stiles shakes his head. “‘If you’re good at something, never do it for free.’”

“I thought we were Marvel people?” Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Point still stands,” Stiles replies. ”Seriously, though, you don’t have to show them to him. I won’t push because I know these are important to you.”

Derek gives Stiles a small smile. “Thanks.”

Stiles turns the page and finds his many, many, _many_ practice sketches of Lydia’s Homecoming dress. “ _Jesus_ , dude, how long did it take you to get it the way you wanted it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Derek says grumpily. Stiles laughs and squeezes his hand again.

“Lydia appreciates the effort, I’m sure,” he says. He turns the page again, to see several practice sketches of everyone’s faces, and flips through them. “When did you finish those drawings?”

“Yesterday morning,” Derek grimaces. “Yours was one I already had done, and Scott’s was fairly easy. I left Jackson’s for last because I figured he would be pretty easy to draw. By then, though, I was tired of drawing altogether, and I was lucky to even finish it.”

Stiles grins. “Well, I can promise you that everyone was amazed by your skills. Danny said even Jackson admitted it was awesome last night.”

Derek can feel himself turning red. “I’m glad they liked it.”

Stiles turns the page to the final drawing in the book and looks at it. Derek lets out a breath, because it’s not finished, and he’s actually forgotten he’d started it. It’s a drawing of him and Stiles, lying sideways on Derek’s bed. Their foreheads are touching, and Stiles’s eyes are closed while Derek’s are open, and he’s looking at Stiles. Their bodies are pressed up against each other, and they’re holding hands.

Stiles is smiling at it, and looks up and smiles at Derek. “You’re really talented, you know that, right?”

“Um, I guess?” Derek shrugs. He’s never really thought about it, to be honest. Drawing is something he does, but it’s not something he brags about. He thinks he’s good at it, it helps him settle his mind, and he doesn’t often let others see it, so he’s not really concerned with their opinions. But Stiles’s eyes are warm and proud, and Derek somehow manages to not turn bright red.

“Thank you for letting me see this,” Stiles says, closing the book. “I know what it means.”

Derek takes it back and puts it in his bag. He hesitates, then says, “Thank you for talking to me, that first day on the roof. You _don’t_ know what that means. That you were willing to talk to me, I mean, and that you didn’t push me to talk back. Most people either avoid me entirely or try to make me talk. You didn’t. So thank you.”

Stiles shrugs. “You intrigued me.”

“I’m glad,” Derek says honestly.

Stiles grins and squeezes his hand one more time before letting go and pulling out his menu. “We should probably eat something now.”

“Probably,” Derek nods. He picks up his own menu and hides behind it, willing his face to turn back to its normal color. He peeks out when the waitress comes by and takes their orders, and realizes he can’t keep the menu when she takes Stiles’s. He hands it over and stares at his hands, hoping he isn’t still blushing but not entirely sure.

Stiles’s hand comes into view, and grabs Derek’s, pulling it halfway across the table. He winks at Derek when he looks up and says, “So, does this count as a Christmas present or should I find something else?”

Derek laughs. “I think I’ll let you get away with it this time.”

Stiles grins and leans back, still holding Derek’s hand. “Awesome.”

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek climbs out of the Jeep and yawns as Stiles comes around.

“Did I wear you out?” Stiles asks, a wicked grin on his face.

Derek just rolls his eyes. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Stiles says, and this time it’s Derek who’s pressed up against the Jeep. He doesn’t mind, allowing Stiles to lean against him. Their foreheads touch, and Derek closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Stiles being so close to him. It’s so much better than he’d imagined.

“So,” Stiles says quietly, placing his hands on Derek’s hips. “All in all, a good night?”

“Definitely a good night,” Derek agrees, moving his head a tiny bit and accidentally bumping his nose into Stiles’s. “We should do it again soon.”

“How about when I get back from my grandparents’ on the 26th?” Stiles asks. “I can give you your birthday present then.”

“You don’t need to get me a birthday present,” Derek insists.

“Shut up, I’m getting you a birthday present,” Stiles says. “I already have it planned and cleared with Laura, you’re getting a birthday present.”

Derek opens his eyes, curious. “Why did you have to clear it with Laura?”

“You’ll see on the 26th, now won’t you?” Stiles says teasingly.

“You are evil,” Derek tells him. “Truly evil.”

Stiles just grins and gives Derek a slow, lingering kiss. Then he pulls away from Derek entirely and says, “You’d better go inside. I can see Cora staring out the window.”

Derek turns towards his house and rolls his eyes. Cora is indeed standing there, staring out the living room window. Stiles and Derek are illuminated by the light on Stiles’s garage, which means she’s seen everything. Derek feels himself turning red again.

“We should give her a show,” Stiles suggests.

Derek lets out a startled laugh. “Don’t you even dare. She’ll tell Laura and _I_ will end up taking the fall for it.”

Stiles laughs and kisses Derek one more time before letting go of his hand and gesturing toward the house. “Wouldn’t want her to come out here.”

“Oh, God, no, we would not,” Derek grimaces. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll stop by to say goodbye before we leave for Christmas,” Stiles promises. Derek nods and walks to his house, narrowing his eyes at Cora, who stares back unapologetically.

“So you and Stiles kissed?” is the first thing Laura says when Derek gets inside.

Derek sighs. “Yup.”

“Is he a good kisser?” Laura asks.

“Laura!” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m not answering that.”

“Is that a no?” Laura teases.

“It’s a ‘that’s none of your business,’” Derek says, and thanks God for small miracles when his phone starts ringing.

Until he pulls it out and sees who it is.

“Lydia, I _literally_ just walked through the front door,” he answers as he heads up to his room.

“I know, we were watching,” Lydia says casually. “I see you guys survived the date.”

“More than survived it,” Erica’s voice says. “They were _kissing_ , as in _oh, my God, that’s so cute_ kissing. They’re _adorable_.”

“Why is this happening?” Derek asks no one in particular.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lydia replies. “So the date went well?”

“Yes, it went well,” Derek says, taking of his jacket. “Very well.”

“Good!” Lydia sounds thrilled. Derek is slightly terrified.

“Thank God,” Erica says, her voice moving away from the phone. “I don’t think I could have handled more oblivious flirting.”

“Thanks,” Derek sighs. “Can I go to bed now? I’m tired.”

“No, you have to give us details,” Lydia says. “Where did he take you?”

Derek groans. “Really?”

“Yes, really, do you not know me at all?”

“We went to the movies,” Derek says. “And then a diner. Tada.”

“Movies?” Lydia asks. “Which theater? What did you see?”

“Lydia,” Derek sighs. “Can we just not? Can I just have this to myself, please?”

It’s quiet on the other end for a few moments, and then Lydia says, “Fine. But you’re going to let me take you shopping for your birthday.”

Derek tries not to grin. “Okay. Can I go to sleep now?”

“You’re so boring,” Erica teases.

“I can live with that,” Derek says. “Good night.”

“Good night,” the girls echo, and he hangs up the phone and lets himself fall backwards onto his bed. He can’t help but review the date in his head, and he grins as he goes over every detail, determined to remember it all for the rest of his life.

He eventually drifts off to sleep, a small smile still on his face.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so technically it's still Friday in the Pacific Time Zone. I am so sorry, guys. I just don't even know.
> 
> Christmas time, yay! And when you see the name Edi, know that it's a reference to EDI from Mass Effect. My friend southerntamata suggested it and I agreed because come on that's cute.
> 
> Also, when you get to the texts, Stiles is bold and Derek is italics. It should be fairly obvious, but I just wanna make sure.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s a quiet Christmas, almost no different from any other Christmas. It’s just Derek, Cora, and Laura this holiday; Stiles and his dad are at John’s parents house for Christmas in San Francisco (three and a half hours away) and Scott and his mom are with Melissa’s father in Reno (also three and a half hours away). Derek enjoys the quiet holiday, infinitely more than he’d enjoyed the year before, and as he wakes up on Christmas morning to Cora bouncing on the end of his bed singing ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas,’ he just laughs before burying his face under his pillow.

“Come _on_ ,” Cora says, pulling the pillow off of his face and hitting him with it. “We have _presents_. It’s your birthday!”

“Derek, get up before I let her take a bucket of water up there!” Laura calls playfully, and Derek groans.

“This is why I’m glad I’m gay!” he calls out. “I don’t need any other bossy women in my life!”

“Nope, you ended up with Stiles!” Cora grins, hitting him with the pillow again as he sits up. Derek blocks his face and launches forward, grabbing the pillow out of her hands and throwing it back on the bed. He lets Cora pull him out of bed and down the stairs.

“I’ve got him!” Cora announces. Laura grins from where she’s seated on the couch. There are three mugs of hot chocolate on the table, and Derek grabs the one in the middle, like he always does.

“Merry Christmas,” he says to Laura.

“Merry Christmas,” she responds, and then adds, “Happy birthday.”

“Can I hand out the presents now?” Cora asks excitedly.

“Derek?” Laura looks at Derek, a mischievous look in her eye.

“Hm, I don’t know,” he says, taking a drink of his hot chocolate. “I’m not really feeling it.”

The look Cora gives him makes him choke on his drink, and he spends a good minute coughing while Laura laughs. Cora gives them both the evil eye.

“Okay, Cora,” Laura says when Derek can finally breathe normal. “Go ahead.”

Cora claps and dives under the tree to grab the presents. There aren’t many, since it’s usually just the three of them, but that doesn’t dissuade Cora. She pulls out a box with Derek’s name on it and passes it to him. She sits back and waits for him to open it. It’s tradition for them to open one gift at a time, and since Cora pulled Derek’s present out first, he gets to open it.

“That one is for Christmas from both me and Cora,” Laura informs him as he starts to open it. “I have another one for your birthday, but I’ll give that to you when we’re done here.”

Derek nods and opens it carefully. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting, but when he pulls out a brand new box for a laptop, he stops and stares at it.

“You’ve been using mine so much for essays and homework that I figured it was time to get you your own,” Laura tells him. “I got a Christmas bonus at work.”

“Wow,” Derek continues staring at it. “Thank you.”

“Take good care of it,” Laura tells him.

“I will,” Derek promises, and resolves to call Danny later and make him talk him through setting it up. He’s amazed that he got one at all, let alone a brand new one, and he gives Laura a bright smile. She smiles back.

Cora goes back under the tree and pulls out a box for herself. She opens it and pulls out a Captain America hoodie, one Derek knew she’d been wanting for a while. She grins and puts it on immediately, before yelling, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!” Laura yells back.

Derek shakes his head as Cora pulls out the next gift. It’s his for Laura, and she opens the card slowly before pulling it out and looking at it.

“What is it?” Cora asks, bouncing.

“A spa day?” Laura raises an eyebrow and looks at Derek. “Wow. This is perfect, Derek, thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Derek says honestly, and gets a smile back from Laura.

“My turn!” Cora says in delight, pulling out a package and grimacing when she realizes it’s for Laura. “Whoops.”

She hands it over to Laura, who grins at it. “Thank you, Cora.”

“When did Cora go Christmas shopping?” Derek says, surprised. He hadn’t known Cora was getting anything for anyone.

“Last week,” Cora tells him proudly.

“Lydia and Stiles came over and asked if it was okay if they took her Christmas shopping,” Laura explains at Derek’s confused face. “She got you a birthday present just from her, too. With help from Lydia.”

Cora nods when Derek looks at her. He grins at her face and turns to Laura expectantly.

It turns out to be a very pretty green dress. Derek thinks it’s perfect for Laura, and Laura’s face lights up at the sight of it. She only owns a few dresses, and Derek knows she loves them. He smiles as she carefully puts it down next to her on the couch and turns to Cora.

“One more present,” she tells Cora, and Cora’s eyes light up as she reaches under. She pulls the card for her from Derek out and raises an eyebrow until she opens it.

“‘Go to the garage,’” she reads out loud, and tilts her head, obviously confused. Derek doesn’t offer any explanation, just stands up and pulls her towards the garage. She follows, and when Derek turns the light on and reveals the new bike sitting in the middle of the room, her eyes widen and she squeals loudly enough that Derek flinches from the sheer volume.

“Told you she’d love it,” Laura mutters as Cora gets on it, obviously ready to ride it. “No, Cora, you can ride it tomorrow if it’s not too cold, okay?”

Cora actually _pouts_ , but gets off the bike and follows them back into the house. Then she brightens and says, “Can we give Derek his birthday presents now?”

Laura nods, and Cora cheers and hurries up the stairs.

“It’s good to see her so excited,” Laura comments as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a card.

“It is,” Derek nods. He doesn’t protest when Laura directs him onto the couch and hands him the card. Cora’s back before he can even think about opening it and shoves a box into his lap.

“Open mine first!” she insists, and Derek raises an eyebrow. He does open the box, because he thinks Cora might explode if he doesn’t.

It’s a red sweater, and when he glances at the sleeve, he sees it has thumb holes. He stares at it, but it’s soft when he runs his hands over it, and he doesn’t have any other sweaters, so he folds it carefully and says, “Thank you, Cora.”

“You’re welcome!” she says brightly. He picks up the card from Laura and opens it, and sees a card with a pamphlet folded up inside of it. He unfolds it and sees it’s about a cell phone plan. He doesn’t understand what it means exactly, until he reads through the list of features he has, he notices a few new ones.

Such as unlimited texting.

Stiles was going to drive him _crazy_.

“Really?” he looks up, feeling his eyes go wide. Laura smiles and nods.

“I figured it would be easier for you and your friends to talk if you had unlimited texting,” she shrugs.

Derek grins. “When can I use it?”

“I upgraded it a few days ago,” Laura tells him. “You’re free to text away. After brunch, that is.”

“Of course,” Derek nods, grinning. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday,” she replies, and Cora echoes it.

Brunch was a tradition their mother’s parents had started when she was a little girl, and she’d continued it with them when they’d been born, and Laura had decided to continue it. They made homemade doughnuts with whatever topping they wanted, pancakes with a special syrup (a family recipe that miraculously Laura had remembered, which is good because the original family cookbook had been lost in the fire), and a Christmas Yule log. It was a weird meal, but it didn’t really matter to them.

After brunch, they all sat down in the living room and Laura put in _Home Alone_ before laying down on the couch. She always took a nap after they ate, whereas Cora and Derek usually stayed awake to mess around with their presents.

Derek grabs his phone and his art bag and sprawls on the floor in the living room. Cora’s on the other side of the coffee table, her legs under the tree, reading a book. Derek just grins and turns his phone on. He opens a new message and types Stiles’s name on before typing in a message.

_guess who got unlimited texts for a birthday present?_

He’s not expecting an answer right away, so he’s surprised when it vibrates a minute later, as he’s started working on his drawing of him and Stiles. He opens the message and reads it.

**you’re going to regret telling me that**

Another one comes seconds later.

**you’re never gonna have another moment of peace**

Derek rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

_Merry Christmas._

**Merry Christmas and also happy birthday**

_thanks. how’s it going?_

**my grandma is bossing my dad around the kitchen and my grandpa is hiding in his room**

**it’s going great**

**im actually kind of scared**

**save me**

Derek snorts.

_i’ll pray for you._

**did cora like her bike**

_she’s upset she can’t go ride it yet._

**i would be too**

**i mean that bike is sweet**

_should I get you one too?_

**fuck yeah dude i’d look badass on a pink sparkly bike don’t even pretend i wouldn’t**

_i hope you know that will eventually become a picture i draw_

**i am going to demand a copy**

_oh, hey, I also got a laptop. I’m gonna make danny come help me set it up tomorrow or whenever._

**Lydia will be thrilled i’ll invite you to our chatroom**

_why is everything else lowercase but Lydia’s name capitalized?_

**she’d kill me if it wasn’t**

**she’d find out without me telling her**

**she’s got superpowers dude its scary**

Derek just laughs and shakes his head.

“Having fun flirting?” Cora asks.

“I’m allowed to flirt with my boyfriend,” Derek says absently, before realizing that he’d called Stiles his boyfriend for the first time. He freezes and looks up. Both of his sisters are looking at him.

“When did it become official?” Laura asks, but she’s smiling.

Derek shrugs. His phone vibrates again and he looks down at it.

**my grandma’s complaining because my dad told her about you and shes mad i didnt bring my boyfriend**

**you’re probably going to get dragged down here at some point**

**i am so sorry**

“I think it became official on the date,” he says, smiling at the texts. “When I showed him my sketchbook.”

“You let him look inside?” Cora sounds about ready to explode.

“It seemed fair,” Derek says, looking up. “He took me to his favorite place in Beacon Hills. A theatre he considers his place to go to be close to his mom.”

Cora nods, looking serious for the first time that day. Laura looks...sad and thrilled, all at once. Derek doesn’t know what to make of her expression, so he focuses on the text he’s sending Stiles.

_i don’t mind, will there be embarrassing childhood stories?_

“What did he say when he saw the sketchbook?” Laura asks slowly.

Derek grins at the memory. “I made him speechless.”

Laura laughs outright. “Too bad no one will believe it.”

**dont you even dare**

“What are you guys talking about?” Cora asks.

“Apparently his dad told his grandma and she’s mad that she doesn’t get to meet me,” Derek shrugs.

_i can’t have a little fun?_

**no**

**not allowed**

**stop that**

Derek’s laughing now. “I can’t ask about childhood stories,” he tells Laura and Cora.

**you’re evil over text**

**i feel like i shouldnt be surprised**

**but i am**

**its kinda hot**

Derek blushes, and Laura grins. “I know that look. What did he say?” she asks.

“Nope,” Derek says, closing the text and hiding his phone under him. Cora and Laura exchange looks, and then Derek finds himself being double-teamed. Somehow he ends up rolling over completely and narrowly missing hitting his head on the coffee table. He’s too far from his phone to hide it now, and makes a grab for it, but Laura’s already got it in her hand and is standing up, reading through the texts. Cora’s sitting on Derek’s back, and doesn’t flinch when he tries to throw her off.

He lets out a sigh and puts his forehead on the floor.

“Aw,” Laura teases. “That’s so sweet.”

“I hate you,” Derek mutters.

“No, you don’t,” Laura says.

“What did he say?” Cora whines, still seated on Derek’s back.

“They’re flirting,” Laura says, giving Derek’s phone back to him. “Stiles called Derek hot.”

Cora’s nose wrinkles. “Ew! I don’t want to think about my brother that way!”

Derek opens the thread while Laura’s recovering from her laughter and types a new text to Stiles.

_my sisters are crazy._

**i’ll trade your sisters for my grandparents**

_is that a fair trade?_

**no your sisters arent as bad as my grandparents**

**i will fully admit to that**

_thanks._

**no problem**

**they’ll probably love you you have that whole ‘i-am-a-responsible-person’ vibe**

_what does that even mean?_

**you project ‘i am an upstanding citizen’ vibes dude**

**its adorable really**

_am i being insulted?_

**nah its a compliment my grandma will be happy i found someone more mature than me and my grandpa will use you to distract my grandma from the fact that hes eating two pieces of pie instead of only one**

**my dad will pretend hes not here like hes trying to do right now**

**hes not succeeding**

**its a valiant effort**

_you should know you’re entertaining Laura and Cora too_

It’s true. They’re both reading over his shoulders. Cora’s still sitting on him, leaning forward, and Laura’s seated on his side, and they’re reading everything over his shoulder.

**Merry Christmas laura and cora!**

“Merry Christmas, Stiles!” Cora says excitedly. Laura repeats it, grinning at Derek.

_they say Merry Christmas back._

**i have to go my grandma is threatening to burn the turkey if someone doesnt come help her and i dont trust my dad with cooking**

_good luck_

Derek ignores the look he knows he’s getting from Laura and rolls onto his back with Cora finally gets off of him. He’s hoping it’ll pass without a comment, but Laura sighs dramatically and says, “You two are so _cute_.”

“Thank you,” Derek says to the ceiling, hoping his annoyance will be conveyed in his tone.

“No problem!”

Derek groans.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

“Hello!” Stiles declares as Derek opens the front door. “Get dressed, I am taking you to your birthday present!”

“I missed you, too,” Derek deadpans as he steps back and lets Stiles in.

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, nearly knocking him over. “Better?” he asks in Derek’s ear.

“Mildly,” Derek shuts the door with one arm and hugs Stiles back with the other. “What is my birthday present?”

“Nope, not yet,” Stiles says, letting go. He looks toward the living room, where Cora’s wearing her new hoodie with the mask over her head. “Aren’t you a little short to be Captain America?”

“Maybe,” Cora says. “Technically, I don’t care.”

Stiles salutes her and turns back to Derek. “I am to formally invite you to my grandparents’ house on New Year’s Day. I tried to get out of it, but my grandma is like Lydia times a million. It’s _terrifying_. At least I managed to drag my dad into it, too.”

Derek snorts. “Might as well get it over with, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” Stiles says. “Just remember to avoid eye contact or she’ll possess your soul.”

“Stiles!” Derek can’t help but laugh. “That’s horrible!”

Stiles just winks at him. “Go. Get dressed. Is Laura here?”

“No, it’s the day after Christmas, she had to work,” Derek hears Cora say as he walks up the stairs to his room.

“She should know we’re going to pick your present up!” Stiles calls after Derek.

“I’ll tell her!” Derek says, and sends a text to her, grinning as he does so. Maybe it’s lame, but Derek loves that he can text instead of call. It makes him feel better.

Laura texts back as he’s heading down the stairs wearing a hoodie he’s pretty sure he stole from Stiles after Halloween and carrying his art bag.

“She says okay, and to be careful when bringing it home and make sure we don’t make a mess,” Derek reads it out loud to Stiles and Cora, who are locked in an arm-wrestling match.

“Tell her we will be,” Stiles says. “I promise, and if we make a mess and we can’t clean it up, I’ll personally pay for it.”

“What are we getting?” Derek asks again. He’s too curious to leave it alone.

“You’ll _see_ ,” Stiles says.

“Can I know?” Cora asks.

“Only if you beat me and promise not to tell Derek,” Stiles tells her. Her eyes light up and she starts pushing against Stiles’s hand, clearly determined to win. Stiles laughs and eventually lets her push his hand down.

“I won’t tell him!” Cora promises, and Stiles grins and leans forward to whisper in her ear.

“Really?” Cora squeals, and now Derek is annoyed he doesn’t know. “That’s awesome! You’ll love it, Derek, I promise.”

Derek raises an eyebrow at her, but she’s nodding enthusiastically, and Stiles is straightening up.

“Come on, dude, let’s go!” Stiles says, and reaches out to grab Derek’s hand and pull him towards the door. Derek follows, calling out a quick goodbye to Cora before closing the door behind them and locking the door.

“You’re seriously not gonna tell me until we get there?” Derek asks as they get to the Jeep.

“Nope, I am not,” Stiles says, and lets go of Derek’s hand. “Get in, I’m excited.”

Derek raises an eyebrow but does what he’s told. He buckles his seatbelt and bounces his knee as he waits for Stiles to pull out of the driveway and onto the street. Stiles pulls in the opposite direction from the school, and most of the other places they go, and Derek frowns, trying to figure out where they’re going.

He’s _completely_ caught off guard when they park in front of the animal shelter. He doesn’t know what they’re doing there, and is even more confused when Stiles pulls him out of the Jeep and toward the animal shelter.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks.

“I asked Laura what a good birthday present would be for you,” Stiles says. “Actually, originally it was a Christmas present. But now it’s a birthday present. Whatever. Anyway, she and I actually talked about it a lot, and finally she told me that you’ve always wanted a dog and that she wouldn’t mind getting one.”

“What?” Derek freezes as they reach the door. Stiles tries to pull him through the door, but Derek doesn’t budge, and Stiles ends up taking a step back and facing Derek.

“You are adopting a puppy,” Stiles says. “Or an older dog. Whatever dog you want. It’s your choice. Laura and I talked about it, I made sure she knew I would help pay for it since it’s a _present_ , and you don’t get to say no, because I am your boyfriend and I am allowed to spoil you with shit.”

“You’re so sappy,” Derek says absently. Part of him is realizing what’s going on. He’s getting a _dog_. He’s always wanted a dog, since he was a little kid, and even after the fire that hadn’t changed.

“I am allowed to be sappy,” Stiles informs him. “But you are not allowed to tell anyone else about it.”

“Right,” Derek says. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your whole image. Whatever it is.”

Stiles snorts. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re getting me a _dog_ ,” Derek says, amazed. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I do indeed,” Stiles says. “Are you coming or not?”

He pulls him forward again, and this time Derek lets him, too amazed at the fact that his boyfriend is getting him a dog to argue.

It takes forty-five minutes of Stiles going, “Derek! What about this one? This one? Come on, this one’s eyes remind me of Scott’s, see?” for Derek to finally find the dog he wants. It’s a small Jack-Rat Terrier, with big ears and big eyes. Her stomach, face, and legs are covered in white fur, while her back and her ears are brown. The employee helping them tells them her name is Edi.

Edi is excitable, already at the door of the kennel to meet them. The employee helping them -- her name tag says Marin -- says, “She’s a very smart dog. She’s just over three months old, and she’s house-trained. She hasn’t been spayed yet, but will be soon, that will be included in the adoption fee. And I’ll need someone over the age of eighteen to come with a valid ID.”

“How long?” Stiles asks, since Derek is crouched down, playing with Edi the best he can through the kennel door.

“Well, you can come back later and arrange for everything to be taken care of,” Marin says. “I just need someone of legal age. She’ll be scheduled for the next available surgery to be spayed, and then when she’s fully recovered, you’ll be able to take her home. We keep her during this time to make sure she recovers alright.”

“What’s the total cost?” Derek can’t help but ask.

“173 dollars,” Marin doesn’t miss a beat. Derek blinks in surprise, but Stiles doesn’t look put off. He just nods.

They promise to come back later that day with Laura, and Derek says goodbye to Edi before letting Stiles pull him out the door. He calls Laura and explains the situation as Stiles drives them home, and Laura agrees to take them back as soon as she gets off work.

Cora’s waiting in the living room for them when they get back, and she looks excited.

“Did you find a puppy?” she asks, bouncing. “When do we get to bring it home? Is it a boy or girl? Is it cute?”

“Yes, soon, girl, and definitely,” Derek answers. Stiles grins as Cora works out the answers and then claps in excitement.

“When can I meet her?” she asks.

“Later, if you come with us to the shelter when Laura takes us,” Derek says, and Cora nods excitedly.

“I will!” she says, and claps again. Derek turns to look at Stiles, but he’s not standing next to Derek anymore.

“Stiles?” he says.

“What?” comes from the kitchen, and Stiles comes back out into the living room. “Sorry, I’m hungry. We got back around ten and I haven’t actually had food yet today.”

“Help yourself,” Derek gestures towards the kitchen.

“Are you guys hungry?” Stiles asks as he turns back towards the kitchen.

“Always,” Cora says.

“Are you offering to cook for us?” Derek asks as he follows Stiles.

“I was thinking of making some spaghetti or something,” Stiles shrugs and Derek agrees. He sits on the counter where Stiles usually sits when Derek’s cooking, and listens to Stiles sing as he starts to cook.

“Why do you sing when you cook?” Derek asks when Stiles pauses.

Stiles lets out a slow breath. “My mom always used to sing while she cooked. She used to say it helped her focus.”

Derek nods. “My dad did most of the cooking in our house. He always had the radio on, usually show tunes. His favorite was _Les Miserables_.”

“ _Les Mis_ is a good one,” Stiles smiles. “I personally like _Phantom of the Opera_.”

“I always liked _Rent_ ,” Derek shrugs.

“I’ve never seen _Rent_ ,” Stiles admits, and Derek raises an eyebrow.

“You know I’m going to make you watch it now, right?”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t watch your favorite musical with you?” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at him. Derek can’t help but smile at the reminder.

“A pretty crappy one, I’d imagine. I’m not an expert, though,” he says, watching Stiles stir the noodles.

“Me, either!” Stiles says cheerfully. “I’m more of a ‘make it up as you go’ kind of guy anyway.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but smiles when Stiles starts singing again and leans back on the counter. He watches as Stiles finishes and raises an eyebrow when Stiles insists on getting a bowl for him.

“You’re already getting me a dog,” he points out as Stiles hands him the bowl.

“Sh,” Stiles says. “Eat the spaghetti.”

“Why is everyone in my life so bossy?” Derek mutters, but does what he’s told as Stiles gets another bowl and takes it out to Cora. Then he gets his own bowl and sits down on the counter next to Derek, chattering away about the research he’d done about owning a dog. By the time Laura gets home and they head to the animal clinic with Cora in tow, Derek knows more than he ever thought he would about the pitbull debate.

Once inside, they meet with Marin again, and Laura fills out the paperwork while Derek and Stiles take Cora to meet Edi. She falls in love with the little dog immediately, and though Marin isn’t allowed to let her out, manages to play with her. By the time they get everything worked out, Cora is demanding to take Edi home right away, and Stiles is meowing at a sleepy cat. Derek’s trying really hard not to laugh and fails when Laura throws him a look.

Laura takes them all home and then pushes Derek out the door with Stiles. “Go do something. Go be not here for a while.”

“I live here,” Derek points out.

Laura doesn’t respond, just shuts the door. Derek blinks and then looks at Stiles. “I don’t have my keys.”

Stiles laughs. “You can just climb in through your window later. Let’s go eat tacos or something.”

Derek nods and lets Stiles take his hand and pull him to the Jeep.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has two panic attacks in it.
> 
> Also warning: I changed my [tumblr](http://the-bookkeepers.tumblr.com/) URL. If you go back to one of my earlier links, I changed them to the current URL, I just wanted everyone to be aware of the change if you want to message me about one of my fics.
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek doesn’t understand computers. At all.

He’d invited Danny over to set his new laptop up, and he’s trying to follow everything that Danny’s saying, but it’s all just a big jumble of words to him. It takes Danny a while to catch on to this, but luckily for Derek, Stiles is there to keep the conversation going.

Stiles and Danny have started ignoring him because he answered every question with, “I don’t know, you decide.” They’ve been arguing over the best web browser for twenty minutes and don’t seem any closer to coming to a decision than they had when they’d started.

Derek’s sitting on his bed with his sketchbook open on his knees, inspecting his latest drawing. It’s of Cora on her new bike. She’d finally gotten to ride it for the first time the day before, and she’d been smiling and laughing the entire time. It still made Derek smile when he thought about it.

It’s another ten minutes before Danny finally decides to put both browsers and let Derek decide which one he likes best. Derek’s pretty sure he’ll end up using the same one as Stiles, but he doesn’t say that.

After that’s decided, Danny finishes quickly. He shuts down the computer and turns to face Derek.

“Okay,” Danny says, giving Stiles an annoyed look. “It’s set up. You should try it out and see if you have anything you want to add. Tell me at Jackson’s tonight.”

“Okay,” Derek says, standing up and putting the sketchbook. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Danny says as he gathers his things and then leaves the room.

“Turn it on, turn it on!” Stiles says, jumping on the bed and bouncing. “Come _on_ , Derek, we’ve still got things we gotta pick up for the party tonight, and I wanna help you set up your Skype account and all that!”

Derek grins as he types his password and hits enter. Stiles comes up behind him and talks him through downloading Skype and creating an account. He makes Derek add him immediately, and then starts going through the group until Derek’s got all of them. Once they’d all been added, Stiles pulls Derek to his feet and demands that they start gathering materials for the party Jackson’s have in his backyard. It’s New Years Eve, and apparently, the group gets together to celebrate every holiday. Derek’s not questioning it.

“What are we getting?” Derek asks as he gets into the Jeep, shivering slightly. He’s wearing the sweater Cora gave him, and he’s got his thumbs through the holes. He’d shown it to Stiles the day before and learned that Stiles loved it, so he’d decided to wear it. He’s planning on wearing it to the party, too, because Lydia will recognize it, since she’d helped Cora pick it out.

“We’re in charge of drinks,” Stiles says. “Or, rather, I’m in charge of drinks, and I’m dragging your ass with me.”

Derek laughs. “Right. Was I not assigned anything?”

“You’re supposed to bring s’mores supplies,” Stiles tells him. “You didn’t know?”

Derek shakes his head. “I did not know.”

“Well,” Stiles says. “Clearly no one else has decided to take advantage of your newfound texting capabilities.”

“Nope, that’s just you,” Derek grins. “Flooding my inbox. With _hundreds_ of messages.”

“I warned you!” Stiles points out. “And it’s not like you don’t know me well enough to already know that was going to happen.”

“Touché.”

“Do you need me to cover for you for now?” Stiles asks, not unkindly. They have a standing agreement made the third time Derek had gone to the movies with them and hadn’t had enough money for snacks that if Derek doesn’t have enough money, Stiles will cover for him, and Derek will pay him back. It’s been a smooth system so far, and though Derek’s pride still bothers him over it, he’s learning to get over it.

“No, I got it,” Derek says. “I got paid last night.”

Shopping with Stiles is always some sort of adventure. Stiles is is a pretty organized person, so he usually has an exact list of what he wants to get, but he has to be talked out of getting a million other things. Derek didn’t ever make a grocery list before meeting Stiles, but that’s changed now. He’s not sure what to do with this information.

They make quick work of finding everything they need and head back home. Stiles offers to toss around a ball to help Derek practice for baseball tryouts, and Derek agrees. Stiles is a pretty fair baseball player, even if he talks while Derek’s trying to get himself in the right mindset, and it’s good to get back into playing. He’s missed it.

They eventually went inside to get ready to go. Derek had taken his sweater off to practice, so he takes a quick shower and puts it back on before grabbing his leather jacket, the s’mores supplies, and his art bag and hurries outside to the Jeep.

Stiles is seated on the hood of his Jeep next to Scott. They’re both holding onto plastic bags, and Stiles has his open and is digging around in it. He looks up as Derek gets closer.

“Derek!” he says. “It’s been far too long!”

“It’s been a _half_ _an hour_ ,” Derek deadpans.

“Far too long!” Stiles repeats. “I’ve been pining.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek tries not to grin. He does not succeed.

“When you two are finished, I’ll be in the Jeep,” Scott hops off the hood. “If you take too long, I’m hot wiring it and running your asses over.”

“Love you, bro!” Stiles calls over his shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever,” Scott grumbles, but when he turns, Derek can see he’s smiling.

“You know, on second thought, you don’t need a dog,” Stiles says. “You have Scott.”

Derek laughs. “I think Laura might object if I bring Scott home on a leash.”

Stiles cracks up and starts sliding off of the Jeep. Derek grabs his arm before he can fall, and Scott honks the horn twice. Derek looks back and sees Scott’s laughing, too, and giving Derek a thumbs up.

Stiles calms down after a while, and herds Derek into the Jeep. Erica’s riding with Boyd, and they have to pick Isaac up from his job, so it’s only the three of them at the moment. They head to the bookstore Isaac works at and then straight to Jackson’s house.

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand as they’re walking in and starts swinging them back and forth. Lydia answers the door when they knock and sees what Stiles is doing. She grins, and Derek wants to bury his face in his sweater. He’s embarrassed, but Stiles just grins back and pulls him inside.

Jackson’s house is actually the nicest house in the entirety of Beacon Hills (in Derek’s opinion) and Derek likes to see the inside of it. Jackson’s mom is an interior decorator, so it’s gorgeous, and Derek always feels like he’s an a museum when he’s there. One where he can sit at the couch and listen to Stiles call Jackson a fuckhead when they’re competing in video games.

The rest of the group sans Boyd and Erica is sitting in the living room. Scott immediately sits down next to Allison in the chair, and Derek looks away, because he doesn’t want to see what they’re about to do. Stiles sits down next to Danny and pulls Derek down between him and the arm of the couch. Derek grins and relaxes.

They put in a movie (this time, it’s _Stay Alive_ , and Derek resolves that he will never play another video game ever in his life), and by the time it’s over, Boyd and Erica have arrived, and Jackson’s recruited Scott and Danny to help him set up the backyard. There’s a firework show going on at a park a few blocks from Jackson’s house, and they’ve got a perfect view from the backyard, so they’re having a party and watching the fireworks. Derek’s used to having parties on New Years ;his parents had always gone as big as they could. They’d always said it was to ‘celebrate the fact that they’d survived another year.’

Remembering that gives Derek a lump in his throat, so he immediately grabs Stiles’s hand again and stares at their entwined hands, focusing on thinking about the date and staying in the _here and now_. He’s been doing really good lately and he doesn’t want to ruin this party.

“Let’s go outside,” Jackson says after a while, and they all move to go outside. Jackson’s got a pretty big backyard, and there’s plenty of room for them to sit down on lawn chairs and get comfortable. It’s a relaxed atmosphere of just joking and chatting, and Derek lets the conversation wash over him. He’s not a night person, and it’s only about eleven, but he’s tired, and eventually his head finds its way onto Stiles’s shoulder and he starts to drift off. He hears Jackson making fun of him for falling asleep and Stiles defending him, but he can’t be bothered to respond to any of it.

He’s startled awake by a _whoosh_ and when he opens his eyes all he can see is fire.

_Fire, there’s flames coming out of his bedroom window, and there’s screaming. His cousins, he can hear his cousins screaming, and Cora’s screaming, and he thinks maybe he’s screaming too, but he’s not sure, his body feels somewhat disconnected from his brain._

_His dad was in there, his dad had just told him to take Cora out, he’ll be out any second, Derek’s sure of it, with his mom or his cousins, or his aunt, or_ someone _and the screaming won’t fucking stop._

_Derek covers his ears, but this leaves his eyes free to see what’s going on and oh, God, there’s fire coming out of Cora’s room, the window right next to his, and Cora takes off to run back to the house. Derek doesn’t even think, just lunges for her and grabs her and holds her close to him, and covers her ears so she can’t hear the screaming._

_Sirens have joined the screaming, and there’s so much_ noise _and suddenly people are rushing all around them. Abruptly he realizes that the only person still screaming is him. Cora’s sobbing into his shirt, and people are surrounding them, and one of them opens their mouths and says…_

“Derek? Derek, can you hear me?”

_The people are trying to separate him from Cora now, and she won’t let go of his hands. There’s fire in the office now, and he hears two of the people in uniforms talking to each other…_

“What’s wrong, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t know! I swear I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known!”

_One of the people in uniform crouches down in front of him and looks him in the eyes and starts talking directly to him._

“Derek, you gotta snap out of it, man, you’re okay. You’re safe, you’re in Jackson’s backyard, Cora’s safe with Laura at her house. Derek? Derek!”

_The man in the uniform sounds frightened, and the babble of voices in the background sounds panicked, and suddenly he’s lying on his back…_

...looking directly at Stiles, who is staring down at him with wide, scared eyes. His left wrist is throbbing, and his throat burns. He still hears Cora screaming in his mind, and can still smell fire. He’s hyperventilating, and tangled up in the chair he’d been sitting on, and his face is wet, he’s pretty sure.

“Derek,” Stiles says. His voice is urgent, and his hands are shaking slightly, but he’s visibly calming down.

“Sorry,” Derek can barely manage the whisper, and Stiles lets out a breath like a sigh.

“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s not your fault. Is it okay if I touch you?”

The fact that he asks instead of just doing so makes Derek feel a bit better for no reason at all, and he nods as he starts to catch his breath. Stiles carefully helps him get away from the chair, and settles them on the ground, allowing Derek to lean against him.

Derek presses his face into Stiles’s chest, trying to stop the tears that are rushing, and trying to squash the sense of panic that’s still trying to take over. He’s never had a flashback that vivid before, and he’s shaking uncontrollably. His wrist hurts horribly, and he can’t remember why, and he really wants to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson says, and for once, he sounds completely serious and somewhat subdued. “I didn’t -- I didn’t know. We always have a campfire.”

“It’s not your fault, either,” Stiles says, and he sounds like he means it. “Derek told me a while ago. We didn’t tell any of you guys. I should have thought about it.”

Derek lets out an annoyed noise. “ _S’mores_.”

He should have known. He should have realized when he’d gotten the s’mores supplies that there was going to be a campfire. They could have avoided this entire fucking mess.

_God, I’m so fucking stupid._

“Stop it,” Scott says gently. “It’s no one’s fault, and if anyone else tries to take blame, I will shove chocolate down their throat.”

Derek’s vaguely amused by this, but he’s still shaking too hard and panicking too much to even think about laughing. He still wants to throw up, and he’s pretty sure if he didn’t have his face buried in Stiles’s shirt he probably would have already. Stiles’s shirt smells good, though, and it’s blocking the scent of smoke, so there’s always that.

“Derek, what do you need to do now?” Stiles asks.

It’s a good question. A smart question, even. Derek needs to get away from here, from the others who are probably staring at him, to see Cora, and to _breathe_. He’s not sure he’s capable of any of that, and so he just shrugs.

Scott’s telling someone to run and get a bottle of water, which is nice, and Derek realizes he must have been screaming along with his past self in the flashback, because his throat _hurts_. This whole situation is horribly embarrassing, and Derek just presses his face harder into Stiles’s chest.

“Derek?” Scott’s closer than he was before, and Derek flinches involuntarily. “Sorry, sorry. The chair landed on your wrist and your weight with it, and you’re holding it weird, like it hurts. Is it okay if I check it?”

Derek remembers that Scott’s mom is a nurse, so Scott probably has some sort of experience in this situation, so he lets Scott take his arm. Scott’s gentle and slow and he tells Derek exactly what he’s doing in a calm voice. It’s soothing, and finally, Scott says, “I think it’s just a small sprain. It’s definitely not broken. You should probably go to the doctor to check, though.”

Derek nods, but he’s still got his face in Stiles’s chest. His breathing is starting to even out now, but he’s still shaking and there’s still that sense of panic and the urge to get up and run. Stiles is running his hands through his hair, which is something to focus on, and he’s trying to do so.

“Should we call Laura?” Erica’s voice asks, and Derek flinches again. He doesn’t want to call Laura. He doesn’t want her to know about this flashback. He’s been getting _better_ , there’s no need to worry her with this.

“Derek, you really should,” Stiles says quietly. “She knows how to help you. We don’t, really.”

Derek lets out a long, shuddering breath, and nods into Stiles’s shirt. Scott volunteers to call her, and does so where Derek can hear every word he’s saying. It makes Derek feel even better, because he can clearly hear that Scott is serious about it being no one’s fault, and he tells the story in a professional manner, likely one he learned from working at the animal clinic.

“Laura wants to know if she should come get him or if one of us is going to take him home?” Scott says.

“Is it okay if I take you home?” Stiles asks Derek. Derek nods again.

“Derek says it’s okay if Stiles takes him home,” Scott says. Derek can’t hear what Laura’s saying, but Scott ends up handing Stiles the phone. Stiles reassures Laura that he’ll take care of Derek and get him home safely, and then hands the phone back to Scott.

“Derek?” Jackson’s voice says. “I really am sorry.”

He sounds like he’s worried, and Derek realizes that Jackson must have started the fire and now is worried Derek’s angry at him. Derek manages to pull his head away from Stiles’s shirt, flinching yet again at the smell of smoke, and manages to say, “Not your fault.”

He still feels horribly embarrassed, but when he looks around, it’s only Scott, Stiles, and Jackson standing around him. The others are on the back porch, and they’re all very obviously facing away from him.

“Ready?” Stiles asks, and Derek, somewhat relaxed by the fact that no one seems to be staring at him, even if it’s just an act, nods. He lets Stiles help him up and support him, and Jackson and Scott follow them to the porch.

“You okay?” Isaac asks as they reach the porch, and Derek just manages a nod. He’s still panicky, but it’s subsiding, albeit slowly. That usually takes a few hours to go away completely after a flashback or nightmare, and it’s never been this intense before. Then again, Derek hasn’t been by fire since that day. He’s usually extra careful about that. They don’t even use a gas stove.

“Hey,” Scott says as he and Stiles help out to the Jeep. “Don’t be embarrassed, okay? We’re not upset, or going to talk about you, I promise.”

Scott’s so earnest in this kind of thing that Derek can’t help but believe him. In any case, he knows that the looks the group had given him were ones of sympathy and understanding, not anger or anything condescending, so he’s probably right about that.

He’s still embarrassed. No one’s supposed to see him like that. He hates it when _Laura_ sees him like that, and he doesn’t even get like that in front of his therapist. He hates feeling like a burden on other people.

“He’s right,” Stiles says as they pull away. “They’re going to be worried about you, and that’s it. I promise you. Jackson was only upset because he thought you’d hate him for it. And he never would have done that had he known. He’s a dick, but he’s not  _that_ much of a dick.”

Derek doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He definitely doesn’t want to bother Laura with this, and doesn’t want the chance of accidentally setting off Cora, either. He doesn’t want to think about it. He just wants to go in his room and hide from the world until he can breathe without it hitching in his throat and his panic level is manageable.

There’s a flash of light and a loud cracking noise, and Derek’s rearing backwards before he realizes that it’s just a firework. It’s far too late, because he’s panicking again, and _shit_ , everything is just too much and he doesn’t want to think about any of it.

He’s aware that Stiles is talking to him, and the Jeep isn’t moving anymore, but he can’t focus on any of it. He’s trying to fight it, but isn’t gaining any ground, and he’s getting very lightheaded. The Jeep is too small for him, he feels like it’s closing in on him, and he fumbles with the seatbelt before throwing the door open.

He climbs out and gets one step before his knees start to buckle and gravity sets its course. He’s caught by someone warm before he hits the ground, however, and they immediately adjust to his weight, and Derek would know that perfume anywhere.

It’s Laura, and Derek clutches at her, ignoring the way his wrist protests and just hugging her.

“I thought he was calming down?” Laura says, and there’s no accusation in her tone, just worry.

“He was,” Stiles responds, and he’s now somewhere on Derek’s right. “A firework went off just down the street, it was close and _really_ bright. I think it triggered him again.”

“Oh,” Laura says. “Come on, Derek, let’s get you inside. Cora’s in bed, she was tired and crashed early, don’t worry about her. Stiles, you coming?”

“Uh, is it okay if I do?” Stiles sounds hesitant. Derek reaches out his right hand and grabs Stiles’s arm blindly, and Laura lets out a small laugh.

“I think that answers your question,” she says. “Come on, Derek, you’re like the same height as me and still growing, I can’t support you the entire way.”

Derek shifts slightly, but Stiles shows up on his other side and helps them get to the door. Derek ends up on the couch between the two of him, his head on Laura’s shoulder, and her hand running through his hair, much like Stiles’s had been doing earlier.

“So what exactly happened?” Laura asks.

Derek doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to talk about it at all. Everything is too close to the surface, and he’s still coming down off his second panic attack of the night. He’s exhausted, and his head hurts, and he’s calming down but he’s still a bit panicked. Stiles is wrapping his left hand in an Ace bandage, but he starts to tell the story.

“We were all sitting in Jackson’s backyard,” he says. “We were sitting around Jackson’s fire pit -- I didn’t think about it, but we have a bonfire every year at around midnight, and Jackson doesn’t know about the whole fire thing and neither of us told him, so.”

“He lit the fire?” Laura still doesn’t sound angry. Derek’s glad. He doesn’t want her angry at him, or at his friends.

“He likes to be dramatic about it,” Stiles says. Derek can literally hear him rolling his eyes. “He pours lighter fluid all around the logs and then just drops a match in, so it’s basically like a fireball. It’s not safe, but Jackson doesn’t really care much, he just thinks it’s funny. Derek was nearly asleep when it happened, and I guess the fire woke him up, and…”

“Jesus,” Laura whispers.

“He tipped his chair over backwards,” Stiles says. “He was sort of flailing as he fell, and his wrist ended up underneath it, and he started screaming. We couldn’t get him out of it, and we were all kind of panicking. Okay, we were all _really_ panicking, we didn’t really know what to do. Except for Scott, and Scott started getting everyone together and sending them to the porch. Jackson refused to leave, and I wasn’t leaving Derek, so Scott told me to calm down and try to talk to Derek. I think the entire thing lasted a couple of minutes? Before he finally seemed to register that I was there.”

“Does Scott have experience with this?” Laura asks. Derek’s curious about that, too, but he’s starting to fall asleep, soothed by Laura rubbing his head gently. It’s all he can do to stay awake.

“I dunno,” Stiles says. “I remember him telling me once that at the clinic, pet owners tend to really panic when their pets are sick or something? Especially since they’re an emergency clinic, too, and the only one in town. And he volunteers at the hospital a bit, and his mom’s a nurse, so he’s probably been talked through all this. And he used to help me through my panic attacks. So yeah, he does, I guess.”

“You’ve had panic attacks?” Laura sounds surprised.

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “My mom died when I was eight and...I was in the room.”

“Oh,” Laura says.

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “This isn’t the first panic attack Derek’s had here, anyway.”

“Wait, _what_?” Laura asks, and her hand freezes on Derek’s head.

“He didn’t tell you?” Stiles sounds surprised and almost apologetic. “He, uh, one day at cross country practice, we were running next to each other and talking about coaches, and he had one there. I helped him to the bus and later that night he told me about the fire. But he didn’t tell you about the panic attack?”

Laura sighs, long and sad. “No. He doesn’t like to tell me about it. He doesn’t like me to worry.”

“Well, that’s the only one I’ve known about,” Stiles says. “Until tonight, anyway.”

“He’s been getting better,” Laura says. “In part, I think to you. And your other friends.”

Stiles doesn’t respond. Derek wishes he could open his eyes and see what face he’s making, but his eyelids are too heavy.

“It’s true,” Laura says after a bit. “Before we came here, Derek was always angry and alone. He’d yell at me, or at himself. Never at Cora, she was too easily set off to a panic attack and Derek hates when she has one. Most people wouldn’t even try to come up to him. I’m not sure if it ever bothered Derek or if he liked it better that way. Sometimes I think it was both. Most people were too nosy about the fire, or why he lived with his sister, and the theories they came up with were always horrible. It’s probably better they left Derek alone.”

“He was angry when we came here, too. He wouldn’t even really talk to me about this move. Cora hates it when we fight, so that was probably part of it, but even when she wasn’t around to hear us he wouldn’t talk about it. So when we came here, I was expecting more of the same thing, because I just figured it was his way with dealing with what had happened, and who am I to tell him not to do it?”

“I don’t know how exactly you two met. I _assume_ that he was sitting on the roof and you came out to talk to him.”

“That’s what happened,” Stiles says quietly. “I woke up and saw him sitting on the roof and was curious. This house had been empty for years before that, and he looked like he was my age, and he was concentrating so hard on his sketchbook.”

“Whatever you said, you won him over.”

“I accused him of breaking into his own house.”

Laura laughs at that. “I probably shouldn’t be surprised.”

It’s quiet for a while, and Derek’s just about to give in and completely fall asleep when he hears Laura go, “You guys have helped Derek a lot. He’s better now, even with this. He’s not as angry, and he’s starting to let go. You’ve seen his sketchbook, right?”

“He told you?” Stiles asks.

“He told me. And the fact that he showed you is huge. He’s only ever willingly shown that to me. Various therapists have seen a few pages of it, and Cora’s seen a few pictures, the few that wouldn’t trigger her, but those weren’t always of his choosing. He doesn’t like to share his pictures with anyone. Him sharing those with you means he trusts you without a doubt.”

“I’m honored,” Stiles says, sounding in awe. “That he would trust me that much. He’s talented.”

“Yes, he is,” Laura agrees. “But you saw how the pictures progressed, right?”

“Yes.”

“Each phase of grief, he drew a different set of pictures. It’s documented in his sketchbook. He’d been working on the house for a year before he finally moved onto a different subject, and that he chose you means just as much as him showing you the pictures.”

“Is this _the_ talk?” Stiles asks suspiciously.

“Yep. He’s trusting you. One hundred percent. He’s literally shown you his biggest secret. If you ever _dare_ hurt him, the fact that your dad is the sheriff will mean nothing.”

“Jesus,” Stiles says. “Cora’s threatened me, too. Hell, my own _dad_ told me not to hurt him. I’m pretty sure Scott would kill me. I feel so attacked.”

He’s clearly joking, and Laura laughs. “We just want to make sure you’ll take care of him.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. He clears his throat. “In the interest of sharing things, you should know that Derek’s helped me a lot, too. Especially on the anniversary of my mom’s death. I usually isolate myself and spend the entire day a barely-contained ball of rage and grief. Derek didn’t really let me. And, I’m glad he didn’t. Even if I ended up being a dick to everyone the next day.”

“You’re a good kid, Stiles,” Laura says, and her voice is affectionate.

“Thanks,” Stiles sounds embarrassed. “You should also know that Jackson was really upset by what happened, and he feels awful for triggering Derek, even though Derek said it wasn’t his fault, and according to his text, he’s offering to reimburse us for Edi initial adoption fee. So. Not a complete dick.”

Laura laughs. “Please tell me you accepted.”

“Of course I did. He wasn’t going to let it go anyway. He actually likes Derek, no matter how often he seems to be annoyed by him. His conscience would have repeatedly beat him up for it, and so this is Jackson repaying Derek. And if Derek’s worried, none of us are going to treat him weird. We all have our own problems, but we’re not gonna turn on him.”

“You’ll just have to show him that,” Laura says. “He’s not going to take my word for it.”

“We’ll show him,” Stiles promises. The conversation stops after that, and Derek lets himself drop off to sleep, calmed by the fact that Laura and Stiles are watching out for him.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo, I have no excuse. I just kinda lost inspiration for a while for writing, especially this story. But I've got it back! I am so, so sorry. I'll try to update this story and my other ones as often as I can, I didn't mean to completely put it off this long.
> 
> Also, I changed my tumblr URL again, and completely forgot about the links here on AO3. My new URL is [spicybumblebee](http://spicybumblebee.tumblr.com/), and I'm going to go back and delete those other links when I have time to do so. I'm really sorry for those of you who clicked them and got confused.
> 
> I'd like to thank [thelolunicorn](http://thelolunicorn.tumblr.com/) for being the awesome beta she is, even though it's been months, and my good friend [who is no longer southerntamata](http://saltychriskreider.tumblr.com/) but is still the same person because she is awesome.
> 
> I am so sorry for such a long wait, but I'm back! Enjoy!

Derek’s woken up by voices around him. They’re lowered, clearly trying to keep it down, but he’s brought back to consciousness anyway. His head feels heavy, and his wrist aches. He feel drained. It takes him a second to remember the night before, but when he does, he wonders if there’s any chance of him barricading himself in his room and never leaving. He _hates_ having panic attacks around other people. Having them around Laura and Cora was one thing, and having them around Stiles is an entirely different matter, but in front of the whole group is literally the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him. It’ll make everything awkward, he just knows it.

“Derek, I know you’re awake,” Laura’s voice says, and Derek grimaces, but opens his eyes. Laura always could tell when he was faking sleep.

Laura’s no longer on the couch. She’s up and dressed in what she calls her ‘day off’ clothes:  sweats and an old tee-shirt. Stiles isn’t on the couch either, and Derek’s about to sit up and look around for him when his head suddenly peeks over the couch.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Stiles grins down at him. “I was hoping you’d sleep a bit longer and I could test the true love’s kiss myth.”

“I’m right here,” Cora appears next to Stiles. She’s making a face, and Derek laughs.

“You’re a dork,” he informs Stiles.

“It’s one of the reasons you keep me around,” Stiles says. “By the way, you slept through breakfast, and Cora ate all the pancakes. Whatever she says, it was her, not me who ate them. She’s a liar.”

“ _You’re_ the liar,” Cora says. “I only ate three pancakes. You had an entire stack.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles says. “I only had two or three pancakes. Maybe four. Possibly more. We just don’t know.”

“You had _six_ ,” Cora says. “I counted.”

“You can’t prove anything.”

“My boyfriend is as mature as my eleven-year-old sister,” Derek informs the ceiling. Laura laughs.

“You knew this about me long before we started dating,” Stiles tells him. “I did not try to hide anything. That would have been too much work, and let’s face it, it makes your life interesting.”

“If you say so,” Derek tries really hard not to smile as he sits up.

“I do say so, did you not just hear me?” Stiles says. “Jeez, it’s like you don’t listen to anything I say.”

“Not that this isn’t fascinating, but I am going to run Cora over to a friend’s house,” Laura says. “And then I’m gonna run to the store. Derek, I set up a doctor’s appointment for you to get your wrist checked out at two o’clock. Are you two doing anything else today?”

“Well, originally we were supposed to go to my grandma’s house in San Francisco, remember?” Stiles says.

“Oh, crap,” Derek says, his eyes widening. He’d totally forgotten. “I --.”

“ _But_ ,” Stiles says loudly, cutting Derek off. “I called my grandma and told her that Derek was feeling sick last night and I didn’t think he’d be up to going today. So we’re doing that tomorrow, if Derek feels up to it. My grandma has not even met Derek and she already loves him, so she didn’t have a problem with it. What was the question again?”

“Derek, text me if you guys decide to go out, okay?” Laura looks down at him. Derek nods. “Okay, then, good-bye, don’t break anything, don’t talk to strangers, just say no, use protection.”

“ _Laura_ ,” Derek groans, feeling his face turn red. Stiles is snickering.

“Protection?” Cora asks, clearly confused.

“You don’t want to know,” Derek tells her.

Cora looks skeptical, but lets it drop in favor of grabbing a bag off the ground and hurrying out the door. Laura follows her, waving at them.

“I love your sisters,” Stiles tells Derek after the door closes.

“You can have them,” Derek says, staring after Cora. He frowns. “Did I grab my art bag before leaving Jackson’s last night?”

Stiles tilts his head. “No, I don’t think you did. I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”

“Can you call Jackson and ask him to drop it off?” Derek asks.

“We could go pick it up,” Stiles says, but Derek shakes his head, feeling a bit of panic rise in him.

“No, just --,” he cuts himself off and swallows. “I don’t -- I don’t like having panic attacks in front of people. I just --.”

“--Don’t want them treating you weird?” Stiles finishes quietly. Derek nods. “Okay. I can’t convince you of this, but you should know that they’re not going to. They’re worried about you, but they’re not going to treat you any differently. But if you just wanna spend the day here, that’s okay. I’ll call Jackson.”

Derek swallows again, feeling the panic fade a bit. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Stiles says, and picks his phone up off of the table. He dials a number and sits down next to Derek as he waits for it to connect. “Hey, Jackson. No, he’s okay. No. We left his art bag at your house last night. Can you run it over? Yeah. Okay. Yeah, thanks.”

Stiles blinks and looks at his phone. “That dick hung up without saying goodbye. What the hell.”

“The two of you have an interesting relationship,” Derek informs him.

“He’s an asshole, I’m an asshole, we bonded over being assholes to other people,” Stiles says. “He’s going to bring your bag over in about twenty minutes. I heard Danny’s voice in the background, so he might come with. In the meantime, I can make more pancakes if you want some?”

Stiles is clearly wanting to move around, so Derek agrees and follows Stiles to the kitchen. He sits on the counter, grimacing at the pain in his wrist as he tries to lift himself and fails. He hops up instead, and looks at his wrist. It’s a little swollen, not nearly as bad as Derek was expecting. They probably should have checked it out the night before.

“It’ll probably be okay for baseball,” Stiles says. “You’ll have to be careful with it, though. But I’ve seen Scott and Jackson do worse to their knees and shoulders and bounce right back into lacrosse a week later. Of course, the two of them are a bit obsessed, so maybe that’s not a good comparison.”

“I didn’t even think about baseball,” Derek sighs. “Two weeks. Why does the season start so late here?”

“Don’t ask me,” Stiles says. “I don’t know anything about the baseball team. I know that those twins are on it, and that is about it. Lydia says they’re pretty good. She dated one of the twins for like a week last year when she and Jackson were on a break because of something stupid Jackson said, so I guess she probably knows what she’s talking about. But maybe she meant they were good in bed. Fuck if I know.”

Derek snorts. “I checked the stats for last season, they weren’t horrible.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

By the time the doorbell rings, Derek has told Stiles what he knows about the previous season and eaten three pancakes. Stiles is starting to clean up the pancake supplies, but he stops to grab Derek’s uninjured wrist and pull him to the door.

“Hello!” Stiles says as he throws the door open. Jackson and Danny are standing there, both looking exhausted. Jackson’s holding Derek’s art bag and holds it out to Derek. Derek pulls his hand out of Stiles’s grip and takes the bag, hugging it close to his chest.

“You guys look like you stayed up all night,” Stiles says.

Danny groans. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

Stiles grins. “Sure it wasn’t. You had anything to eat?”

“Yeah, we ate at Jackson’s,” Danny says. He looks at Derek. “You okay?”

Derek just nods. Danny gives him a smile.

“Okay, then. Lydia’s setting up a time for us all to go back to school shopping two days from now. Don’t try to tell her that it’s only back from winter break, she does not listen.”

“Good to know,” Stiles says.

“Thanks,” Derek adds, gesturing to the bag.

“Yeah, well,” Jackson says, then shuts his mouth and turns around. Derek raises his eyebrow, but Danny just grins and waves before following Jackson.

“See?” Stiles says as soon as he closes the door. “They’ll act normal.”

Derek shrugs as he puts his art bag down on the couch. Stiles follows him and says, “Hey, what are the odds we could take advantage of Jackson’s guilt and get him to buy you tickets to Comic Con?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re damn right I am.”

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

The next day starts off bright and early, with Derek’s alarm going off at five-thirty. He’d set it the night before, since Stiles had told him they were leaving at six. It was supposed to take them three and a half hours to get to San Francisco. They’re supposed to eat lunch with John’s parents, and then Stiles is planning to take Derek to sight-see for a few hours before they come back for dinner and then head back home. Despite his nerves at meeting Stiles’ grandparents, Derek’s excited.

Cora’s curled up next to Derek as he gets up and grumbles at him as he gets out of bed, then pulls his blanket over her head. Derek doesn’t know when she came into his room, but it’s safe to say she’ll probably sleep for a couple more hours.

He moves quietly through his room and looks out the window to Stiles’ room. The light is on, but he can’t see Stiles anywhere. He rolls his eyes at himself and heads into the shower.

Cora’s still fast asleep in his bed when he comes back out. She’s rolled over onto her back, taking up the entire bed by herself. Derek just shakes his head and turns to get dressed. Stiles had told him to dress casually so he’s comfortable on the drive there, so Derek just puts on a pair of jeans and Stiles’ lacrosse sweatshirt. He’s not sure if he’d stolen it or if Stiles had intentionally left it there, but whatever the reason, he’s wearing it today.

He grabs his art bag, shoves a few things in it that he’ll need (including the book he’s hoping to finish on this trip), and checks his phone. He’s got a text from Stiles, sent two minutes before.

**hurry up you nerd**

Derek grins and walks out into the hallway, shutting his door carefully before knocking on Laura’s.

“Huh?” Laura’s voice calls out sleepily, and Derek opens the door.

“I’m leaving to go with Stiles, like I told you last night,” he says.

“Okay,” Laura mumbles. “Call me when you get there and have fun.”

“Love you,” Derek says as he shuts the door, and hears Laura repeat his words.

He grabs his coat and throws it on before grabbing his keys and going out the door. It’s chilly and he grimaces as he pulls the door closed and locks it.

Stiles is leaning against his dad’s minivan, half-asleep, when Derek walks up. John is waiting next to him, looking much more awake than his son, and he smiles at Derek.

“Good morning, Derek,” John says, loudly enough that Stiles starts.

“Good morning, sir,” Derek says.

“Told you he’s more of a morning person than I am,” Stiles mutters.

“I’m pretty sure everyone is more of a morning person than you are,” Derek says.

“Erica hates mornings more than me,” Stiles tells him.

“Barely,” Derek says.

“It still counts,” Stiles says, and then blinks. “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“Oh, God,” John says, and opens the door to the van. He climbs in and shuts the door, and busies himself with starting the car. Stiles snickers.

“He’s not used to me having a boyfriend yet.”

“I’m not used to having one yet, either,” Derek replies, and Stiles grins at him.

“You’ll get there. Come on, I brought my DS. I bet you like water-type Pokemon best, don’t you?”

The first hour of the ride is quieter than Derek had expected, John’s got the radio low, playing 80’s tunes that Derek knows from trips with Laura. Stiles is nodding off, his head on Derek’s shoulder while Derek plays Pokemon on his DS. Every now and again Stiles will mutter something to help Derek’s game, then fall back asleep.

They stop at McDonalds for breakfast an hour away from Beacon Hills, and the coffee Stiles gets seems to wake him up a bit more. This means that when they’re back in the car, Stiles starts to talk about everything. He tells John about Derek joining the baseball team, and their practice, and about how his wrist should be healed in a few days, and all of his art. John asks Derek questions about his favorite team and beams when Derek admits that he’s a Mets fan.

By the time they get to John’s grandparents house, Derek hasn’t opened his book once, but he’s heard all about John’s college baseball team and has been invited to play with John on his team during the station’s annual baseball game.

“Better you than me,” Stiles says as they’re pulling up. “Last year I tripped over first base. It wasn’t pretty.”

“It’s a favorite story of my deputies,” John says, opening his door.

Derek freezes and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Stiles grabs his arm and says, “Nope, no, you’re awesome, they’ll love you, it’s cold and I can’t stay in the car any longer, I will lose it.”

Derek barely has time to unbuckle his seat belt before Stiles is pulling him out of the car. He grabs his art bag and pulls it onto his shoulder as he climbs out. Stiles shuts the door and moves to hold his hand instead. He squeezes it and mutters, “Seriously, they’ll love you.”

Derek manages a small smile and lets Stiles lead him up to the front door, where John is already knocking on the door. The door opens after a few seconds.

An older man is standing there, and as soon as he sees them, he says, “No, quick, get back in the car, before she knows you’re here.”

“Ha, ha, Dad,” John says, and moves to give him a hug.

“Anna! They’re here!” the man calls over his shoulder as he pulls away from John. “This must be Derek,” he says with a smile.

“Yes, sir,” Derek says, shaking his hand.

“Good to meet you,” the man says. “I’m Elijah, you can call me Eli if you’d like.”

Derek nods. Eli tilts his head.

“Quiet one, huh?” he says. “Can’t imagine how you ended up with my grandson, then.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” Stiles deadpans. Derek grins.

“Gets it from me, of course,” Eli continues, winking at Derek. “We Stilinski men like to talk.”

“Like the sound of their own voices, you mean,” a woman’s voice says. “Why are you all standing outside, it’s cold.”

“This is nothing,” Eli scoffs, standing back from the door to let them in. “You want cold, you should have been there when --.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard this all before, not all of us are from the Ice Age,” Derek hears as he follows Stiles into the house. Stiles stops and takes off his shoes at the door, so Derek follows suit and then turns to see a woman standing there, obviously John’s mother. She has her blonde hair up in a bun and a pair of glasses that remind Derek of the ones his mom had always worn while doing paperwork. She’s younger than Derek had expected, and has a fond look on her face.

“Hi, Mom,” John says as he hugs her.

“You’re earlier than usual,” she says.

“Stiles actually woke up on time,” John replies. “I think he was trying to impress Derek.”

“Wow,” is all Stiles says, and Derek desperately tries not to laugh. He doesn’t succeed, and gets a betrayed look from Stiles.

“Sorry,” he says, but ruins it by laughing again.

“So this is Derek?” Stiles’ grandmother says. “Hello, Derek. Call me Anna.”

Derek nods, shaking the hand that she’s holding out.

“He’s a man of few words,” Eli tells her.

“Good, a good match for Stiles then,” Anna says. Derek feels his ears turn red is glad he’d stolen Stiles’ hat on the drive there.

“Now, Stiles, come help me in the kitchen,” Anna says. “I’m making your father’s favorite stew.”

“Wait, but --,” is all Stiles gets out before she pulls him away. Derek watches him go and internally panics for a few moments before John saves him by saying, “Derek is a Mets fan, Dad.”

“Got a good head on your shoulders, then,” Eli says nodding. He moves in the opposite direction that Anna and Stiles had gone, and John gestures for Derek to follow.

Eli leads them into the living room and sits down on a chair. John takes the other chair, so Derek sits down on the couch and pretends he isn’t wishing he was somewhere else.

“So, Derek,” Eli says. “Tell me about yourself.”

Derek swallows and says the first thing that comes to mind. “I, uh, I like to draw.”

“Stiles told us that,” Eli nods. “He showed us your picture. You’ve got some talent.”

“Thank you,” Derek says, feeling his ears turn red again. “I, uh, I’m thinking about going into architecture when I graduate.”

It’s something he’s been thinking about for a while. He hasn’t told anyone yet, even though he’s been doing a little bit of research into it, but he can’t think of anything else to say, and he doesn’t want to fall into an awkward silence.

It turns out to be a good call, because Eli’s face lights up and he begins talking about his travels. He’s a historian, he tells Derek, with an interest in art, and had done some research on the different architects from different cultures. Derek knows some of what he’s talking about and starts to relax. John doesn’t say anything, but he’s smiling every time Derek looks at him.

An hour later, Stiles walks into the living room and announces, “Lunchtime.”

He waits for Derek to get up and grabs his hand as they’re walking into the dining room.

“Did you finish interrogating him?” Stiles asks Eli as they sit down.

“I wasn’t interrogating him,” Eli waves his hand as he sits down. “We were simply talking. He wants to be an architect. He knows about older architecture. We had a nice conversation. Is that so bad?”

Stiles raises an eyebrow and says, “Architect? That explains your fascination with Danny’s house, then.”

“It’s a nice house,” Derek says. “It would be fun to draw.”

Stiles grins as they start to eat. The conversation lulls for a while as they eat, and then, the moment Derek’s been dreading happens.

“So, tell us about your family, Derek,” Anna says, and out of the corner of his eye, Derek sees Stiles freeze.

“Uh,” Derek forces his mind away from the dark path it’s taking and says, “I have an older sister, her name is Laura. We live with her, and she works a lot. And I have a younger sister named Cora.”

“She’s a big Captain America fan,” Stiles says. “We debate about Marvel all the time.”

Stiles directs the conversation away from Derek, and Derek sees John lean over and mutter something into his dad’s ear. Eli’s eyes widen, and then he nods before leaning over and whispering to Anna. She covers her mouth with her hand for a few seconds, looking horrified. Derek pretends to ignore it, and slowly the knot in his stomach dissolves.

“So, where are you two heading after this?” Eli asks.

“The Oakland Museum,” Stiles says. “I asked Derek where he wanted to go and he said there.”

Derek nods in agreement. In truth he’d wanted to go to an art museum and had just Googled and found the first one that sounded interesting, but no one needed to know that. He’d done a little bit of research on the museum and though it wasn’t just art, he’d found that it was definitely one he’d want to go to anyway, so it seemed appropriate.

They finished not long after that, and Stiles gets the keys to his dad’s minivan. They head out after promising to be careful, and Stiles lets out a long breath as the doors close.

“I’m sorry she asked,” he says, and starts to say more, but Derek interrupts him.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Really. I’m okay. She didn’t say anything wrong, and I’m not upset.”

Stiles searches his face for a few seconds, but nods. “Okay.”

“They’re pretty cool,” Derek says.

“Yeah, I told you you’d won them over,” Stiles says. “Architecture was a stroke of genius though. When did you decide that?”

“I haven’t really decided it,” Derek says. “I’ve been thinking about it, because it interests me, but I haven’t made any decisions yet. But it was quiet, and awkward, and I kinda just blurted it out?”

Stiles grins. “Well, my grandfather was excited about it, so it worked out well.”

“He knew a lot more than I did,” Derek shakes his head. “It was pretty cool.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Stiles says fondly, and Derek just grins.

The museum is more crowded than Derek had been expecting, but Stiles has clearly been here before, because he leads Derek through the crowd confidently and heads right to the art.

It takes Stiles approximately five minutes to get distracted and wander away from Derek. He’d been expecting this, and just continues moving his way through the museum, enjoying the art and feeling somewhat inadequate until Stiles randomly pops up next to him and scares the hell out of him.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” Stiles says, his eyes wide. “Both for scaring you and for wandering away.”

Derek just makes a noise as he attempts to remember how to breathe. “Jesus, Stiles.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that,” Stiles says. “But _dude_. I’ve never gone through the art as closely as I have today. It’s so _cool_. I love art.”

Derek grins. “Me, too.”

Stiles stays next to him the rest of the time, and points out the pieces he’d looked at earlier, and which ones were his favorite. He asks Derek a hundred questions about the paintings, and if Derek painted, and if he knew anything about the technical side of art. Derek does his best to answer the questions, grinning through it all. He absolutely loves art, and seeing Stiles excited about something he loves makes him extremely happy.

Their conversation lasts until they get back in the car, and then Stiles says, “I should have taken art. Except I _suck_ at drawing. Wait, do you paint?”

“A little,” Derek says. “I’m better at drawing. I don’t have a lot of practice with painting. It was messier and harder to get the supplies for, so I just stuck with drawing.”

“That’s cool,” Stiles says. Then, “Do you think I could learn how to draw?”

“Sure,” Derek says. “You just gotta practice.”

“Easy for you to say,” Stiles mumbles. “You’re awesome.”

“Because I practiced,” Derek tells him. “I’ve been drawing since I was a little kid, Stiles, it didn’t just come to me.”

Stiles makes a face. “Bah. That’s a lot of work. I’ll just keep drawing stick figures and admiring your art. Your number one fan, right here.”

“I’m flattered,” replies Derek, his tone flat.

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated,” Stiles informs him. Derek just grins.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT NEW CHAPTER
> 
> Jesus Christ I'm so sorry, I'm awful at updating. I swear it's not because I don't want to write these stories anymore. I'm gonna try and get the next chapter out soon, and hopefully finish this fic relatively soon. I'm so sorry for the wait!

“Fair warning,” Scott says. “Shopping with Lydia is an experience.”

“So I’ve been told,” Derek says.

“Lydia’s not always the one we need to worry about,” Erica leans forward. “ _Jackson_ tends to be worse about it.”

Stiles snorts. “Jackson’s so much fun to mess with. Just do the opposite of what he says and wait for him to explode.”

“You’re such a dick,” Scott tells him.

“So many people keep telling me that,” Stiles says. “Derek told me that like twice yesterday.”

“I called you an asshole, there’s a difference,” Derek says. “And it was the day before. And you agreed with me.”

“Well, of course I did, I _am_ an asshole,” Stiles says.

“I’m trying to decide if you two were worse before you started dating or after,” Isaac grumbles. “I don’t think there’s a difference.”

“There’s more kissing now,” Erica says.

“And we can mock them to their faces,” Scott adds.

“You are also an asshole,” Derek tells Scott.

“Of course I am, I’ve been friends with Stiles for _years_ , it’s a survival instinct.”

“Fuck you too, dude,” Stiles says.

“What are we even shopping for?” Derek asks, attempting to change the subject.

“All of the things,” Stiles says at the same time Isaac says, “Don’t ask.”

“Good to know,” Derek rolls his eyes.

“Usually we start out looking for school clothes and it dissolves into Stiles and Jackson getting escorted out by mall security for starting a projectile war involving Nerf guns, footballs, and at one point, a snowglobe,” Scott says.

“One time,” Stiles says. “ _One time_ , two years ago, and no one will ever let it go.”

“You say that about a lot of things,” Derek says.

“My mistakes apparently become legends.”

“Nah, dude, you’re not that cool,” Scott says. “They become warnings.”

“I’m feeling the love today,” Stiles says, but he’s grinning.

Derek just grins. He’d still been worried that things would be awkward around the others, but as soon as he’d met the others at Stiles’ Jeep, they’d fallen right back into their usual rhythm without even trying. Derek isn’t even being as quiet as he’d planned to be. It’s a good feeling.

“How did the trip go yesterday?” Scott asks, leaning forward and changing the radio station.

“Exactly the way I said it would,” Stiles says, changing it back without even glancing at it. “Derek won over my grandparents, we toured a museum, my dad drank so much coffee on the way home we had to stop for the bathroom every half hour, Derek wouldn’t let me play my own Pokemon game on the way home because he was hogging it. The usual.”

“You’re the one who made me play it in the first place,” Derek tells him.

“ _You’re_ the one who said you’d never played it before,” Stiles responds. “Who does that? I mean, seriously, Derek.”

“I watched the show!” Derek protests.

“The show and the game are two different things.”

“Don’t argue,” Isaac says. “We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What about Scott and _Star Wars_?” Derek asks.

“Thank you for taking me down with you,” Scott mutters.

“Every time I try to educate Scott on the wonders of _Star Wars_ , he loses interest and changes the subject,” Stiles says. “Whereas you’re too polite to change the subject.”

Derek snorts. “Like you’d actually listen to the subject change if you didn’t want to.”

“Rude,” Stiles winks at him.

“Is this some sort of foreplay?” Scott asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Stiles retorts.

“Dear God, please stop,” Isaac says, covering his ears.

“Please don’t, I’m recording this for posterity,” Erica pipes up.

“Oh, God,” Derek groans, and leans his head back against the seat. He loves his friends, he really does, but he just knows this is going to end up as blackmail.

Thankfully, they arrive at the mall just then, and Stiles parks next to Jackson’s car, which Lydia is leaning against. She looks impatient, and Derek wonders how long he can get away with hiding behind Stiles at this point.

Probably not long. He misses those days.

He decides to try his luck anyway, and holds Stiles’ hand, keeping Lydia on the other side of him. She notices immediately, and Derek finds himself being pulled away first.

“You really don’t need to buy me anything, I swear,” Derek says as Lydia holds up a pair of skinny jeans to his legs. His ears start to turn red and he grimaces as Lydia makes a displeased noise.

“I am doing this because you are my friend and you need to dress like my friend,” Lydia says, handing the jeans to him to hold. “Do not argue. Be glad it’s me and not Jackson.”

“The two of you were made for each other,” Derek says. Lydia seems to soften up at this comment, and Derek breathes a sigh of relief.

Which promptly turns into a yelp as Scott and Stiles blow past him, one on each side, Jackson following. Derek has no idea what they’re yelling, if they’re even yelling words. He can’t do anything but stare as Jackson chases them both around the entire store.

“If we get banned, I’m slashing their tires,” Lydia grumbles. “Including Scott’s bike tires.”

“I’ll help,” Derek says absentmindedly. He’s still watching as Scott trips and takes Stiles down with him. Jackson catches up with both of them, looking incredibly smug.

Stiles pops up, a jacket covering most of his face, and throws it at Jackson.

“Our boyfriends are weird,” Derek informs Lydia. She smirks.

“We’re the smart ones,” she says. “Not that either of them would admit it.”

“Stiles is pretty smart,” Derek says, still watching Stiles argue with Jackson. “Most of the time.”

“Stiles is the only other kid in our grade who actually challenges me when it comes to valedictorian,” Lydia says, holding up a sweater to Derek. “He’s still an idiot.”

“It’s part of his charm,” Derek says.

“If you say so,” Lydia says. “Try these on. And don’t just say they don’t fit, I have my ways of knowing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Derek salutes her the best he can with his arms full of clothing. Lydia rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Stiles,” she says.

“Nonsense, there’s no such thing as too much time with me,” Stiles says. “Control your boyfriend, please, Lydia.”

“Should I ask the same of Derek?” Lydia asks. Derek hides his smile behind the pile of clothes in his arms.

“You can try,” Stiles shrugs. Lydia narrows her eyes at him before waving Derek off.

“Go,” she says. “Make sure those fit. It’s your turn, Stiles.”

“Oh, no,” Stiles says, his eyes going comically wide. “I’ve made a mistake. Derek! Tell my dad I love him! Take care of Roscoe for me! Don’t let go, Rose!”

“That’s not how the quote goes,” Derek calls after him before heading to the dressing rooms. He’s still grinning as he gets there, and continues grinning until he’s inside one and sees the amount of clothes Lydia wants him to try on.

_Oh, boy._

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, an anon on tumblr told me I was awful and no one wanted to read anything written by me, so I wrote this chapter entirely out of spite. I'm glad I finally got another chapter down, though. I'm so sorry for the sporadic updates. I still love writing this fic.
> 
>  [New tumblr time!](http://drdone.tumblr.com)
> 
> Disclaimer: It's almost three in the morning, and I am so sorry for any and all mistakes. I plan on rereading this when I wake up and fixing any, but I got excited.

Stiles is possibly more excited for baseball tryouts than Derek is, and he shows up after school in the locker room wearing a shirt with Derek’s face on it.

“Why,” Derek asks, staring at it. He’s not sure where the picture is from, but it’s recent; he’s wearing the sweater Cora got him. It’s quickly become his favorite.

“What?” Stiles asks innocently. “I just wanna show my support.”

“Classy, Stilinski,” Jackson says as he passes.

“Bite me, Whittemore,” Stiles says without missing a beat. Jackson turns to give them both a smirk, and nearly walks into Danny, who grabs his arm and starts to pull him out of the locker room.

“Good luck, Derek!” Danny calls.

“Thanks!” Derek says, realizing belatedly that his voice is shaking slightly. He can’t help it. He’s _nervous_. It’s been a long time since he played baseball on a team.

Stiles, unfortunately, has noticed his nerves. He nudges Derek’s side and says, “You’re gonna do awesome. Best pitcher out there.”

“That’s not even remotely true,” Derek says, shutting his locker. “And anyway, I probably won’t make the team, there’s -.”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Stiles rolls his eyes and pulls him forward, kissing him hard. Derek’s too distracted when he lets go to finish his thought, and just stares at Stiles.

“You got this,” Stiles says. “So help me God, if you say one more self-deprecating thing, I will punch you.”

“You’re so romantic,” Derek says somewhat absently.

“Damn right I am,” Stiles says. “Now go, and remember, I _will_ punch you.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but turns to head out to the baseball field. Stiles follows, because of course he does, puffing out his chest every time someone walks past them.

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek informs him as he drops his bag on the bleachers.

“I know!” Stiles says cheerfully, jumping up on the bleachers and setting his bag down next to him. “You love it, don’t lie.”

“I don’t know where you get that idea,” Derek sniffs, and walks away. He can hear Stiles squawk indignantly and laughs as he goes to stretch.

They’re paired off to warm up, and Derek ends up with one of the twins - Ethan, he thinks, though he can’t be sure. He’s friendly enough, though Derek thinks that’s probably because Danny has shown up. They smile at each other every time they make eye contact, and Derek wonders if he and Stiles were that bad.

Ethan’s got a decent arm, and they offer tips back and forth to fix techniques, and by the end of the warm up, Derek’s feeling a lot calmer, at least until he looks at the crowd. Scott and Allison have joined the group in the stands, and they’re holding signs.

Derek loves his friends, but _come on_. This is a bit much.

He rolls his eyes at them, but turns to listen to the coach. And after that, he’s too busy to pay attention to the stands. They go through drills, throwing from base to base, and split off into two teams to play a small scrimmage. Derek’s turn goes well; he hits a double and manages to get the other twin - Aiden? - to home base.

And then it’s time for pitcher tryouts. There’s four of them, and Derek’s trying not to be intimidated, but it’s hard. The others have clearly been on the team before and are friendly to each other, teasing each other as they take their turn. They don’t really pay attention to Derek, which is fine by him. He’s too nervous to joke around.

He glances at the stand and meets Stiles’ eyes. Stiles gives him an exaggerated wink and a shit-eating grin, and Derek rolls his eyes. He can’t help glancing at Stiles one more time as he steps up to take his turn.

He’s not awful. He’s pretty sure he could do better, but the coach is nodding approvingly, and one of the other pitchers whispers, “Nice,” when Derek steps back into line. Derek lets out a shaky breath and offers a small smile at the kid.

After that, they run another passing drill, and then it’s over. It’s starting to get chilly, and Derek’s sweaty as he heads to the stands, but before he can even grab his bag, Scott pounces on him.

“Dude!” he practically yells. “You’re awesome!”

“Jesus, McCall, let him breathe.”

Ethan’s behind them, and he nods at Derek, before turning to Danny and asking, “Can we talk?”

Allison puts a hand over Scott’s mouth before he can say anything, and Stiles turns away to hide his smile. Derek rolls his eyes at all of them and says, “I need to shower.”

“We’ll wait for you by the locker room,” Allison says to Danny, and she takes her hand off of Scott’s mouth and pulls him towards the building. Derek follows.

He’s finished in the locker room and waiting with the others by the time Danny shows up, closely followed by Ethan. Danny ducks his head when Scott whistles, and Ethan just raises an eyebrow before heading into the locker room.

“So, when’s the date?” Stiles asks. Danny gives them an embarrassed grin.

“Thursday,” he says, and he sounds incredibly pleased. Allison’s grinning, and Scott actually lets out a loud whoop. Stiles puts his arm around Danny.

“My little Danny’s growing up,” he sniffles, and Danny shoves him off of him.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees. “But hey! You know Lydia’s going to lose her shit, right.”

“We should have let her organize that pool,” Scott says.

“No betting on my love life,” Danny says as they head down the hallway.

“Aw,” Stiles pouts. “But it’s so entertaining.”

“Oh, really? Why don’t we examine _your_ love life?”

“Mine’s better than yours!”

“Oh, my _God_ ,” Derek says. “Shut up.”

“So hey, where are we going to celebrate Derek’s new position on the team?” Allison interjects.

“I haven’t even made the team yet!”

“We should go to Zio’s!” Allison is clearly not listening to him. “When we first met Derek, that’s where we went, after _Pacific Rim_.”

“I wasn’t there,” Scott says, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. Allison pats him on the shoulder.

“Aw, Scott, buddy, I went and saw it with you when you got back,” Stiles says.

“Yeah, but you still saw it without me.”

“It’s been months,” Danny says flatly.

“So? Betrayal is betrayal,” Scott says, his tone serious. Derek shakes his head in amazement.

“I’ll call Lydia and tell her to get everybody to Zio’s,” Allison says, pulling out her phone.

“Scott, you riding with me?” Stiles asks as they reach his Jeep.

“Nah, I’m gonna go with Allison,” Scott says. “But we’re all going to the same place.”

“Sometimes I have a hard time believing the two of you aren’t a couple,” Danny informs them. Derek snorts.

“Scott’s my bro,” Stiles said. “He’s my platonic soulmate. Derek’s my romantic soulmate. You’re just a dick.”

“Thanks.”

In the end, Danny joins Derek in Stiles’ Jeep, and they’re the first to get to Zio’s. It’s mostly empty, and they grab a few tables and push them together. Lydia walks in with Jackson and Erica as they’re sitting down.

“How’d it go?” Erica asks before she’s even seated.

Derek shrugged. “Could have been better.”

Stiles lets out a groan. “You were _good_.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t,” Derek said. “I just said I could do better. And anyway, Danny’s the one with the big news.”

Danny gives him a look that tells him exactly how much he appreciates that subject change, but Lydia’s zeroed in on him, and Danny sighs.

“I have a date with Ethan,” he admits. Lydia’s eyes light up, and Derek turns to look at the door to hide the smile on his face as she starts talking about the possible date ideas. She’s gone through the pros and cons of nearly every restaurant in the town when Scott, Allison, Isaac, and Boyd finally walk through the door.

“Lydia,” Danny finally says as Jackson and Stiles get up to order the food. “Ethan and I haven’t decided what we’re doing.”

“It’s been literally less than an hour,” Scott says. “Has she started planning your wedding yet?”

“Ha, ha,” Lydia deadpans, right about when Stiles and Jackson start bickering loud enough for them to hear at the table. Derek lets out a sigh.

“You think they’ll ever get along?” he asks.

“No,” Isaac says.

“I’ll go break it up,” Scott says, standing. “I’m a pro at this.”

He practically throws himself at Jackson and Stiles, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. Derek can’t hear what he says, but it makes Jackson punch him in the side and Stiles yell, “How dare you!”

Scott comes back to the table with a satisfied look on his face, prompting Allison to ask what he’d told them.

“I told them to take their foreplay somewhere else,” Scott says smugly.

“Of course you did,” Lydia sighs, as Isaac and Erica both crack up. Derek shakes his head again, unable to keep himself from laughing, too. He covers his mouth when Stiles glances at the table, but Stiles still sees his smile and narrows his eyes suspiciously at him.

It takes about twenty minutes for their multitude of pizzas to arrive, and in that time, Stiles and Jackson call each other assholes no less than eight times. Lydia threatens to destroy them in a sweet voice and they shut up after that, and Derek remembers why he’d used to hide behind Stiles around her.

After they eat, Stiles drops Derek off at home before heading toward the police station to take his dad dinner. Derek walks into the house and is immediately greeted by Edi.

She’s been home for a week and a half, and has been a handful, but Derek loves her. She’s excitable and sweet, and she follows him around the entire house. She sleeps in his bed, and curls up on Cora’s feet when she joins them.

She’s perfect. And Derek doesn’t know how to thank Stiles, or Jackson for that matter. He’d made good on his promise, and though he was trying to apologize, Derek can’t accept it as one. He shouldn’t have felt the need to pay for it. Derek had tried to tell them both this, but they’d both told him to shut up.

 _“You’re getting a dog and you can’t stop me!”_ Stiles had sang before literally skipping away. Jackson had just scowled at him, and so Derek had let it drop.

He’s still planning on doing something. And it’s this he focuses on as he sits on the floor in his room with his sketchpad, Edi curled up on the floor next to him. He tries not to think about baseball too much; his nerves have returned now that he’s alone. He still doesn’t think he did his best, and he doesn’t know if he did enough to make the team.

He doesn’t sleep well, even when Edi curls up next to his side. And Stiles doesn’t hesitate to ask the next morning when they meet at his Jeep.

“I’m fine,” Derek grumbles. “I’m just nervous.”

Stiles pokes his forehead. “You’ll make the team, I know it.”

“Besides,” Scott says as he hops off the hood of Stiles’ Jeep. “If you don’t, you still have us. And you can always join lacrosse!”

“Give it up, buddy, Derek doesn’t want to play lacrosse,” Stiles says, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“I know,” Scott sighs. “I just keep hoping he’ll change his mind.”

“Never gonna happen,” Derek tells him.

He has to wait through the entire school day to see the results of the tryouts, and he’s valiantly trying to pay attention, but he just feels jittery. He literally scrambles out the door of his last class, nearly knocking over a freshman in the hallway and hastily apologizing.

To his surprise, Jackson is already standing outside the baseball coach’s office, leaning against the wall and looking for all the world bored out of his mind. He’s the only one of Derek’s friends waiting there.

“Hey,” Derek says. “Anything?”

“No,” Jackson says. “He’s still in his last class.”

The coach is also an English teacher, though Derek doesn’t have him. He has no idea how Bennett is aside from what he’d seen the day before. He can’t be worse than Finstock, though, which is comforting.

It takes ten minutes for the coach to show up and tape up a sheet on the wall. Stiles is waiting next to Derek, while the others are waiting further down the hall. Derek spots Ethan and gives him a nervous smile; Ethan nods back.

There’s a mad dash to be the first to see the paper when the coach stands back. Stiles makes it to the front of the group fairly easy, using his elbows more than is probably necessary. He pulls Derek behind him, then maneuvers him in front of him, leaning over Derek’s shoulder.

Derek scans the page, feeling more nervous every second, and then he finds his name.

 _Derek Hale, starter pitcher_.

He made the team.

He was a starter.

He _made the team_.

Stiles lets out a celebratory yell, directly in Derek’s ear, bringing Derek abruptly down to earth. He moves out of the way of the other hopefuls, and Jackson casually falls into step next to them.

“So?” Jackson demands.

“Starter pitcher!” Stiles yells, loud enough for the group at the end of the hallway to hear him. Scott mobs Derek before they’re even halfway there.

“Told you!” Scott says, refusing to let go of Derek. Derek doesn’t fight it, still absorbing the fact that he’d actually made the team. _He was on the team_.

He’s got a lot of practice ahead of him, but Stiles refuses to let him start immediately. He drags Derek out for ice cream, chattering the entire time. He follows Derek into the house, greeting Edi enthusiastically and practically vibrating with excitement when Derek tells Cora the news.

The two of them run around yelling for a while, while Derek just watches, mentally coming up with a schedule of the practice he needed to do in his mind. When Laura comes home, she doesn’t even need to be told; Stiles and Cora’s excitement tells her everything. She gives Derek a hug.

“Dad would be proud,” she whispers in Derek’s ear, and _that’s_ when it fully hits Derek that he made the team. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, and when Stiles bumps into his shoulder and then pulls him in for a kiss -

Well, that’s just a bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important info: Bennett is indeed the hunter from the beginning of the second season, killed by the kanima. I wanted to use a canon character, but holy hell, I have no idea who anyone is anymore, so I just picked one at random.
> 
> Also, I couldn't remember if baseball did starter or first string, so I just went for starter. If this is wrong, I'm so sorry.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new update WHOA WHAT
> 
> Hello, this is short, but it's setting up for some stuff AND WOW IS THAT AN ACTUAL PLOT I SEE THERE IN THE DISTANCE HOLY HELL

Life gets  _ busy _ .

Baseball practices after school everyday, except Wednesday and Sunday. The games haven’t started yet; they won’t start until March. Derek’s pretty sure they’ll be a good team once it starts, though maybe not the best.

He still has a job, and he’s trying his best to keep up in school. It’s been a long time since he’s had this much going on. It’s exhausting.

The others are busy, too. The lacrosse season started, too, and if Derek hadn’t known beforehand how serious this school was about lacrosse, he probably would have thought everyone had gone nuts. Even with his knowledge, he’s caught completely off guard.  _ Everyone _ is prepping for the games that are coming up soon. The players (i.e.  _ Scott and Jackson _ ) are seen carrying their lacrosse sticks all around school. The school’s filled with lacrosse terms and statistics. It’s like a switch has flipped that Derek didn’t even know existed.

It’s  _ ridiculous _ .

“Did you know that before I came to Beacon Hills, I knew nothing about lacrosse beyond ‘sticks used to throw balls around?’” Derek asks one day as he’s following Allison and Lydia out to the stands to watch practice.

Allison laughs. “Same here. I had the misfortune of coming here during lacrosse season, too.”

“Oh, jeez,” Derek winces in sympathy. Lydia gives them both a look, but can’t hide her amusement as they climb up into the stands.

“It’s not that hard to catch on,” she says.

“That’s not it,” Derek says. “At every other school I’ve been to, no one cares about lacrosse.”

“I don’t even know if the schools I went to even had a lacrosse team,” Allison nods.

“Well, they don’t know what they’re missing, clearly,” Lydia sniffs.

Privately, Derek almost agrees. Lacrosse is a fun sport to watch, once you get the hang of keeping track of the ball. It’s aggressive and fast-moving; Derek’s always surprised by the intensity. He’s definitely glad now that he said no to playing, because there’s no way he’d be able to keep pace with them. Baseball is his sport.

“So,” Lydia asks casually as the players gather around the coach. Derek’s been watching Stiles, number 24, and doesn’t turn his head. “Any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“You’ve asked this a million times, Lydia, I told you, it’s a surprise from Scott,” Allison sighs.

“I was asking Derek,” Lydia tells her, and Derek feels his stomach drop. There’s nothing happening on the field; the coach is yelling at Greenberg, probably for just existing, so Derek can’t pretend to be distracted.

He shrugs. “Not sure yet.”

The truth is, he and Stiles hadn’t talked about it. Stiles hadn’t tried, which is good, because Derek didn’t even  _ want _ to talk about it.

February 14th was Valentine’s Day. It was also the anniversary of the fire.

Derek knows Stiles knows that. He’s not sure about Lydia - she seems just as savvy at learning stuff she shouldn’t through not-so-legal ways, but she hasn’t mentioned it and Derek knows she wouldn’t be pushing this if she knew.

“Oh, come on, tell me you guys aren’t going to waste it,” Lydia says, leaning forward and giving him a look. 

“Yeah, I thought you guys were going to do something,” Allison says, her brows furrowed. “Stiles  _ likes _ these kinds of things, right?”

“He does,” Derek says. “It’s just - I don’t know.”

He  _ really _ doesn’t want to talk about it. He really, really doesn’t. So he stands up and hops down to the ground, walking back to the school. He debates going inside, but instead turns and starts to walk home.

Lydia and Allison didn’t follow him, which is good, but he has no doubt that someone’s going to track him down and ask him about this sooner or later. He wishes they wouldn’t.

He makes it back to his house just as it starts to rain. He heads to his room, dropping down on his bed and flipping his sketchbook open to the drawing of the house.

He’s never been able to figure out why he couldn’t get it right. He remembers the house perfectly, and they have a few pictures of it, but even when Derek had thought he was getting close, something was  _ wrong _ and he had to start over. He still can’t figure out  _ what _ was wrong, though. It’s still frustrating, even months after he last tried.

He’s still staring at it when he hears a knock at the door and looks up to see a soaking wet Stiles looking worried.

“Hey,” Derek says, sitting up and putting the sketchbook on the box he uses as a bedside table. “Practice get rained out?”

“Ha! Right,” Stiles snorts as he moves into the room. “Like Coach cares about rain. No, we finished the practice in the rain. I’m sorry I’m getting your room wet.”

“Oh, no, the horror,” Derek deadpans. Stiles grins.

“Alright, smartass,” he says. “See if I care next time. You got anything I could maybe change into?”

“You mean like some of the clothes you’ve left here before?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow.

Stiles pouts. “What’s the fun in that? I was thinking something more like one of your shirts, or pants. Or I could go without, if that’s really how you want it.”

Derek sighs, ignoring the way his neck and ears are heating up, and moves towards his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and tosses them at Stiles. Stiles ducks into the bathroom changing, before they head down to the dryer to throw Stiles’ wet clothes in. Cora’s watching  _ Spongebob _ and swats at Derek’s hand when he goes to mess up her hair. Stiles snickers.

Derek’s ready to suggest a movie when Stiles closes his door, but Stiles beats him to speaking.

“So, what happened?” he asks, falling back onto the bed as per usual. Derek joins him.

“What do you mean?”

Their faces are close enough that Derek can see all of Stiles’ freckles, and the gold flecks in his brown eyes. It’s mesmerizing, but Stiles apparently doesn’t want to give him time to appreciate it.

“At school,” he says. “Lydia and Allison said you left practice early, and as far as I can tell, you walked home. What happened?”

Derek grimaces. “They were asking about Valentine’s Day.”

Stiles goes still. “Oh.”

Derek knows Stiles loves cheesy romantic things. He’s made that abundantly clear since Derek  _ met _ him. He’ll laugh at it, but he loves it, too, and he was probably looking forward to Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend.

And once again, Derek’s issues get in the way of him being a normal teenager. He almost thought he was going to get away with this for a while.

“So, what’d you tell them?” Stiles asks.

“Nothing,” Derek shakes his head. “I just left.”

“They think you’re mad at them,” Stiles says.

Derek’s eyes widen. “I’m not! I just...don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to tell them?” Stiles asks.

It’s cowardly to say yes. It’s selfish of him to say yes, but  _ God _ , he wants to say yes. He  _ hates _ talking about this. He moves closer to Stiles and shoves his face into Stiles’ shoulder.

“I can tell them,” Stiles says, moving to wrap his arm around Derek. “But you have to let them know you’re not mad at them.”

Derek lets out a breath. “Okay.”

His voice is muffled because of the way his face is mashed against Stiles’s shirt, but Stiles can probably still hear how shaky it is. Stiles’ grip tightens briefly, then he lets go entirely, pulling away to sit up.

“And hey,” he says. Derek rolls to look at him. “I’m not planning anything for Valentine’s Day, okay? And that’s okay. I’ll be here if you need me.”

Derek stares at him for a moment, then closes his eyes. Stiles is - Derek doesn’t deserve him. He doesn’t know exactly how he got him or how this is still such a  _ good _ thing, but he’s going to try to keep it going. At least until Stiles decides he’s not worth it anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I knew I'd get this chapter done today. Uh, dissociation and/or depersonalization I don't actually know the difference even though I experience them. This chapter was so hard to write.
> 
> Side note: this fic is almost two years old I am literally losing it.

Derek doesn’t remember much from the hours right after the fire.

It’d just been him and Cora for a while, in the ER after her panic attack and then to the waiting room, where they stayed until the sheriff got ahold of Laura. A nice woman from Child Services had come and waited with him while Laura drove the six hours from her school to their hometown.

Derek had been numb the entire time, unable to wrap his mind around what was going on, and it wasn’t until Laura showed up, in pajamas and looking like the world had ended that Derek had finally lost it. It’d been so bad that _he’d_ had to go to the ER for his own panic attack.

After that was a blur. He knows now that there were probably a lot of things that Laura had to get in order, paperwork and evaluations she had to do to be able to keep custody of him and Cora, and he’s never told her how grateful he is that she did that. She’d kept herself together and going, for him and Cora, and Derek admires her so much for that.

He couldn’t have been easy to deal with. He’d stopped talking for weeks after the fire. When he’d finally started talking again, it’d been _yelling_ , and it’d been nasty things. He’d fight with Laura and Cora would have a panic attack. Derek would feel guilty, apologize, and then the same thing would happen a few days later.

His therapist had told him it was his anger at what had happened, that he was trying to find someone to blame and was pinning it on Laura. Derek didn’t exactly think that was accurate - he didn’t blame Laura. He blamed himself.

Logically, he knows it wasn’t his fault. The wiring had been faulty, it was a true, honest-to-God accident, but he thinks he could have done more. Gone back in for his cousins, or his mom. Done something, _anything_ , to fix it. He _knows_ it probably would have meant he’d died too, but he can’t help feeling that he was useless.

He’d see his family in his dreams, burning and yelling at him for not doing more. He’d wake up apologizing - never yelling, never loud enough to wake his sisters up, just whispering how sorry he was. His anger had gotten way out of control; he’d been put on medication for a while, until his therapist finally got the cause of his anger out of him after seeing the pictures he’d drawn of himself as a monster.

He’s been getting better, he thinks. The nightmares still come, but they’re less frequent, and the most recent dream about his family he’d had was one where he’d been sitting on their old porch swing with his mother while she’d hummed a lullaby that Derek remembers her singing to him when he was little. It’d been a nice dream.

He’s getting better. But sometimes he’s not.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

The morning of the anniversary, Derek doesn’t get out of bed. Facing the world was sometimes hard on a _good_ day; this is anything but. He hadn’t slept and wasn’t going to, but at least in bed he didn’t have to talk to people.

He notices around eleven that it’s raining outside, the comforting tapping of raindrops on his window breaking its way through his buzzing mind. He pulls his head up and stares out at the rain for a while, feeling disconnected from his body.

Eventually, he comes back down to earth and pushes himself out of bed. He heads down the stairs and finds Laura sitting on the couch with Cora on the floor in front of her, braiding her hair.

“Hey,” Laura says as he joins her on the couch.

“Hi,” Derek says softly. His chest aches; it does that sometimes when he’s around his sisters, because he knows he just as easily could have lost them, too, and the feeling of despair that fills him when he remembers that usually makes him shut down for a while.

It happens again. He feels disconnected and floaty, like he’s not actually real. He used to do this all the time, but it hadn’t happened in so long that he was starting to think it never would again. He’s extremely disappointed it is.

He stares at the TV for a while, only barely noticing that it’s a show about making cakes, and wonders what exactly is keeping him tethered to his body when he gets like this. He gets lost in thinking about that for a while before Laura nudges him and says, “Derek?”

Derek makes a humming noise in response, feeling disoriented.

“We’re going to order pizza, what would you like on it?”

Laura doesn’t say it, but Derek can see her worry all over her face. He has to pull himself together. He can’t go back down that road to where he used to before, not with how far he’s made it now. So he forces himself to give a small smile and says, “Pepperoni.”

Laura looks relieved, if a bit cautious, and Derek grabs the remote before she can say anything else and turns on _Star Trek_. Laura chuckles and gets up, grabbing her phone as she does so.

Derek can hear Laura calling in the order - she’s probably the only person left on the planet that still orders over the phone - and tries not to yell in surprise when Cora suddenly lands on the couch next to him.

“You’re quiet,” she says and looks at him like that’s supposed to mean something. Derek just stares at her.

“Sorry?” he says slowly.

Cora lets out a frustrated noise and pokes him in the forehead. “Don’t go quiet again. I like that you’ve been talking and laughing lately. And I know you’re faking right now.”

Derek blinks. Sometimes he forgets how smart Cora is. “I’m...trying.”

Cora nods, satisfied, and sits back. “Good. Keep trying.”

Derek has no idea what to say to that, so he turns back to the TV, feeling like he’d just got punched in the stomach. He doesn’t know how to tell Cora he doesn’t think he’s actually getting better anymore. He doesn’t know what to do.

But maybe someone else does.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Stiles doesn’t climb in the window, although he did tell Derek he was thinking about it. He comes in the front door instead, let in by Cora and immediately attacked with affection from Edi. Then he follows Derek up the stairs.

“I did the sensible thing today,” Stiles says as they make it to Derek’s room. “I used an umbrella. Jackson called me a wuss and I told him he wasn’t the one he was supposed to be making wet. Lydia’s going to be so _pissed_.”

Derek snorts and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know. So hey, are you okay?”

Stiles looks serious when Derek looks up to meet his eyes, and Derek knows there’s no way he’s fooling Stiles, just like he didn’t fool Cora. So he shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he finally says.

“That’s okay,” Stiles drops his jacket on the floor and sits on the bed next to him. “You’ll figure it out. Maybe not right now, but that’s okay.”

Derek shakes his head. “It’s not. I thought I was getting better, and now I’m just...not.”

Stiles sighs. “You know, recovery isn’t always a straight line forward. Sometimes it’s up and down and back and forth. All over the place. But just because you relapse, doesn’t mean you’re not getting better.”

Derek shrugs again. Stiles studies him for a second, then apparently decides to move on. “You want to watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” Derek doesn’t really want to do anything, but it could distract him. That would be nice.

“I have the _Rugrats_ movie,” Stiles says, reaching into his bag. “And I think I maybe _Zombieland_. I didn’t actually check when I left this morning.”

“Do you always have the _Rugrats_ movie in your bag?” Derek asks as Stiles pulls it and his laptop out.

“Alright, smartass, I grabbed two movies this morning and only looked at one of them.”

Derek just raises an eyebrow and Stiles, turning slightly red, turns back to the laptop and queues up the movie. Then they settle back to watch.

Derek’s seen this movie a hundred times. That’s great, because it’s one of his favorites, but it’s also bad, because it means he doesn’t have to pay attention to know what’s going on, which means his mind is on other things. And he doesn’t want to think about other things. So he leans into Stiles’ side and tries to think about Stiles and how happy he makes him.

It works, for a while. Derek knows he owes a lot of his ‘recovery’ to Stiles. He didn’t know where he’d be if he hadn’t met Stiles.

Yes, he did. He’d be exactly where he’d always been, angry and withdrawn and going further down that path. And he didn’t want to be that person anymore.

Derek clears his throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” Stiles sounds confused. “Wait, why are you thanking me?”

Derek shrugs. “For everything. For putting up with me. For making me better.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stiles says, and pauses the movie. “First off, I should be the one thanking you for putting up with me. And second, I didn’t make you better. Don’t give me the credit, _you’re_ the only one who can make you better. I didn’t do _shit_. I can distract you and I can let you lean on me when you need it, but I can’t make that choice to start working towards being better and I can’t take those steps for you. That’s all _your_ doing.”

Derek’s staring at him, feeling even more off-guard than before. He has no idea what to say and Stiles obviously notices, because he makes a grumpy noise and then leans forward, giving Derek a kiss.

“You’re the one doing all the work,” Stiles says quietly. “I’m just your cheerleader. And you should be proud.”

Derek’s overwhelmed now to the point of freezing up, but it’s not a bad feeling this time. It’s almost like relief. He can’t explain _why_ he feels that way, but it loosens the knot of despair in his chest enough to the point where he feels like he can breathe easier.

He should say something eloquent, something that actually describes what he’s feeling to Stiles, but he can’t come up with the words. He just grabs Stiles’ hand and squeezes it, whispering, “Okay.”

From the way Stiles looks at him, it’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I actually know how to do the line breaks. I just don't. Fear me.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels sorta weird to me, I'm not entirely sure why. It's shorter than I wanted it to be, and I swear to God I'm going to actually get to the plot sometime soon.
> 
> Oh - I'm just picking characters at random for the baseball team at this point. I'm sorry for that. I'm just being lazy.
> 
> [My tumblr](http://drdone.tumblr.com) if you want to follow it.

“Why do you look so happy?”

Derek starts, looking up from calculus book. He’s in the library, trying to cram for a test he missed the review the day before, and Erica’s interruption is not appreciated.

“I really love precalc,” he deadpans, and looks back at his book.

“You’re hilarious,” Erica says and puts her hand over the page. Derek nearly growls at her and she _laughs_. “You’re not intimidating me away from this. I happen to know the anniversary of the...the fire was yesterday, so why do you look so happy?”

Derek looks up and knows he’s not going to win this. Erica is nothing if not persuasive.

“Fine,” he says. “Stiles came over last night and it was nice.”

“Did you lose your V-card?” Erica asked.

“What? _No_!” Derek feels himself turning red. “How do you even know?”

“That you’re a virgin?” Erica asks, and Derek nods. “Oh, Derek, I love you, but you’re not good with people.”

“Thanks,” Derek rolls his eyes.

“You know it’s true,” Erica shrugs. “You’re great once you loosen up, so it’s worth getting to know you.”

Which is nice, and somewhat embarrassing, so Derek mumbles something incoherent and gently moves her hand off of his book. She sighs dramatically, like Derek not paying attention to her is some sort of hardship.

“Did Stiles drive you to school?” she asks after a few minutes of silence.

“No, Laura did,” Derek doesn’t look up. He’s stuck on a problem, and he’s trying to concentrate, but Erica’s making that _really_ hard.

“Oh,” Erica says. “I was about to be amazed if Stiles got up this early just to bring you to study.”

“I’m not getting any studying done with you here,” Derek grumbles.

“Alright, grumpy,” Erica says, and she stands up. Derek stares at his book and groans. He’s going to fail this test, he knows it.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

Derek’s got his head down on his math book when Stiles drops into the seat next to him at their lunch table, and he asks, “Are you okay?”

“I found him that way when I got here,” Danny says. “I think he’s having a crisis.”

“I’m going to fail precalc,” Derek says, his voice muffled by the book.

“Oh, _shit_ , we have a test today!” Scott sounds surprised. “I forgot. The review was yesterday. You missed it.”

“Dude, you should have told us,” Stiles says. Derek feels him trying to pull the book out from underneath Derek’s head. “We could have helped you study.”

“It’s too late,” Derek says, his head turning as the book continues moving. “I don’t understand anything.”

Stiles pats Derek on the head. “You’ll be okay.”

Derek doesn’t respond, leaving his head down on the table. He’s never been this bad at math and he doesn’t understand _why_ he can’t grasp this math concept, but he can’t wrap his mind around it. It’s like a foreign language.

Stiles reads out the name of the chapter and nudges Derek until he sits up. “Come on, you got the smartest girl in the state right there to ask for help.”

Derek looks at Lydia, who holds her hand out for the book and looks at it for a minute. As she starts to explain it, Derek finds himself feeling a bit better as he understands a little bit better, and follows Lydia’s instructions. And as Stiles checks his work and declares it to be right, he feels a little bit warmer inside, because he _does_ have great friends.

He doesn’t forget to apologize to Erica, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek and calls him an idiot. He figures he’s forgiven.

\-                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -                 -

“Do you remember when Saturdays were for relaxing?” Stiles asks as they head into the locker room.

“No,” Derek says. “They used to be for cross country.”

Stiles tilts his head. “Oh, right. My mistake. I love lacrosse, but I miss the off-season. I want to sleep.”

“Where’s your team spirit?” Scott asks as he follows. “You’re not on the bench this year!”

“I noticed,” Stiles says. “Hey, why is baseball having practice at the same time as lacrosse?”

“Why is lacrosse having practice at the same time as baseball?” Ethan asks as he passes them.

Derek snorts as he shoves his shoes in his locker and grabs his cleats. Ethan’s been working his way into their group since he officially became Danny’s boyfriend, and he and Stiles snark back and forth almost as much as Stiles and Jackson. It’s usually harmless, until Aiden joins. His natural state seems to be aggressive, no matter the subject.

“It might start raining again,” Isaac says somewhat dejectedly as he opens his locker. “Coach is going to make us play through it.”

“‘It builds character,’” Stiles says, mimicking Finstock’s voice. “He’s going to be unbearable when games start.”

“I’ll pray for you,” Derek says solemnly. Scott winks.

Stiles grabs his lacrosse stick and says, “We who are about to die salute you.”

He salutes and walks away, trailed by Scott. Derek rolls his eyes and grabs his glove before heading out the door to the baseball field.

“The sky looks nasty,” Aiden says as Derek gets to the dugout.

“Maybe there will be lightning and we’ll get to go home,” Theo, their first baseman, says.

“We need the practice,” Aiden responds, and Theo gives him a dirty look.

“Break it up, you two,” Sean, the second baseman, grumbles.

“Who made him captain?” Theo asks, pointing at Aiden.

“I did.”

Derek tries not to smirk as Coach Bennett comes up behind them. Theo winces, but doesn’t apologize, instead heading for the field.

They’ve barely been on the field for five minutes when the sky opens up and it starts pouring.

“For the love of _God_ ,” Derek hears Aiden groan from third base. Derek privately agrees.

They try to play through it, but the rain just gets harder and eventually Coach calls it quits, telling them all to dry off and not get sick. Derek nods along with the rest of the team before heading back to the locker room.

Unsurprisingly, the lacrosse team is still out practicing, until a bright flash of lightning and a clap of thunder finally convinces Finstock to send them inside, too. Derek’s waiting in the hallway and follows Stiles into the locker room. The entire lacrosse team looks miserable as they fight over the showers.

“I hate him,” Stiles mumbles as he opens his locker. “I hate him _so much_. He’s lost his mind.”

“Probably,” Derek agrees absentmindedly, looking at his phone. He’s changed and dry, but still shivering and it’s annoying him.

He’s still shivering when they get in Stiles’ Jeep, and Stiles turns on the heat. It helps, but Derek’s still shivering even as he heads into his house, leaving his wet shoes by the door and heading up to his bedroom. He changes into warm pajamas and ends up falling asleep on his bed.

He wakes up some time later, with Laura standing over him, feeling his forehead. She gives him a smile when she notices he’s awake, though Derek notices it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, though it comes out a little more slurred than he’d like.

Laura shakes her head. “Just making sure you’re okay. You feel a little warm. I’m gonna get you some medicine, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Derek says. He’s too tired to push any further right now. He’ll try again when he’s more awake. And when his head doesn’t hurt as much. And his throat isn’t as dry.

_Fuck, I don’t wanna be sick_.

What he wants doesn’t seem to matter that much, because he wakes up the next morning coughing. His head aches and feels heavy, and he’s _exhausted_. He rolls over and pulls the covers over his head, trying to warm up.

“Derek?”

The bed dips, and Derek peeks out to see Stiles sitting there. He croaks out, “Hey,” and ends up coughing again.

“Oh, man, that doesn’t sound good,” Stiles says, standing up. “I’ll get Laura, I don’t know where you guys keep your medicine.”

Derek feels like that’s a lie - Stiles is always snooping around - but he doesn’t say anything as Stiles leaves the room. He’s back in a few minutes, Laura behind him with a cup of water and medicine in her hands. She gives Derek the glass of water and the medicine, and watches him take it before she sighs.

“I have to go to work,” she says. “You gonna be okay here?”

Derek nods.

“I can stay with him,” Stiles offers. “I don’t have anything to do anyway.”

“That would be great,” Laura says, sounding relieved. “I’ll be back later.”

“Is everything okay?” Stiles asks, narrowing his eyes.

Laura grimaces. “Just some drama at work. It’ll work out.”

Derek watches her leave, wondering why he suddenly has a bad feeling. And then he’s coughing and it gets pushed to the back of his mind as he leans on Stiles.

Stiles seems to sense his distress, because as he helps Derek lay back down, he says, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Derek nods, but his stomach twists anxiously.

_Then why do I feel like it’s not?_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know.

Derek’s no stranger to the feeling of impending doom, but he wishes it would go away. It makes him anxious and it’s distracting. It doesn’t help that every time he asks Laura if everything’s okay, she’s evasive. He doesn’t feel better.

March comes and he still has _no_ idea what’s wrong. He gets really busy. Lacrosse games start, and baseball isn’t far behind. Allison’s got archery competitions that they go to, and Cora decided to play soccer this year. He still works at the store, though he’s had to cut back on hours because of his schedule. Somehow Stiles talked Derek into taking the ACT with him (though it’s Stiles’ _second time_ already), so he’s studying for that.

Despite all of this, he still can’t get rid of the nagging feeling. It feels like the rug is about to be pulled out from under his feet. And he doesn’t know _why_.

The good news is that Stiles doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Derek had been worried that after a while, Stiles would get bored of him, but they’ve been together for two and a half months now, and if anything, Stiles just seems happier. Derek’s never been in a relationship before, unless the time in third grade when he’d held hands with Paige Krasikeva during recess counted (Derek will deny this happened for the rest of his life; two days later she’d dumped her milk on his head). He feels like this one is going pretty well, despite his lack of experience.

“This is ridiculous,” Allison says, setting down the book she’s been reading. Derek looks up, tilting his head. They’re in Scott’s living room, just the two of them, Scott, and Stiles, and the other two are in the kitchen, arguing over what to order for dinner. They’ve been in there for a half an hour now. Derek doesn’t know how either of them get anything done.

“Okay?” he says slowly, putting down his pencil.

“I’ve been on the same line for five minutes,” Allison says. “I’m going to go cross-eyed. I can’t read anymore.”

Derek glances at the book, trying to read the title. “Ethan Frome?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Allison says grumpily. “What are you working on?”

Derek looks down at the sketchbook. It’s just a rough sketch of Cora after she’d scored a goal in soccer and started jumping up and down excitedly. It was amazing to see her so happy and Derek wants to document it.

He shrugs. “A picture of Cora.”

“Can I see it?” Allison asks hesitantly.

Derek doesn’t think about it; he hands the sketchbook to her. She takes it carefully and looks at it. Immediately, her grumpy expression disappears, replaced by one of awe.

“This is incredible,” she says, her finger tracing over the lines that make Cora. Her finger doesn’t actually touch the page, so Derek doesn’t protest. He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed and shrugs again.

“It’s rough,” he says. “It needs a lot of work and her eyes don’t exactly look right, but -.”

“ - It’s _really good_ ,” Allison interrupts. “Are you going to be an art major?”

“Uh, sort of,” Derek says. “I was thinking maybe architecture?”

He’d said it on a whim to Stiles’ grandpa, but he’s put some thought into it and done some research. It’s become a legitimate career option. He’s surprised by how little he’s actually thought about his future up until now. It was like he hadn’t believed he’d actually _had_ a future until recently. It’s strangely freeing.

Allison has a knowing look on her face and it makes Derek uncomfortable, so he reaches out a hand for his sketchbook. Allison hands it over easily enough and lets him start drawing again. He’s just figuring out what he did wrong with Cora’s eye when Scott lets out a triumphant yell and Stiles yells, “Betrayal!”

Allison starts to laugh. Derek’s mouth twitches. There’s a crashing sound from the kitchen, just as the front door opens and Melissa McCall walks in. She doesn’t even looked fazed by the sounds coming from the kitchen.

“Hello, Allison, Derek,” she says, her tone pleasant. Then in a much louder voice, she yells, “Get out of my kitchen!”

The sounds abruptly stop and Stiles swears loudly before Scott appears in the door, trying to look casual as he leans against the door frame.

“Hey, Mom,” he says with his best innocent look. “When did you get home?”

Allison’s got her hand covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. Derek looks down at his sketchbook, trying to hide his own grin. Melissa McCall is a terrifying woman when she wants to be.

“Around the time two boys broke something of mine,” Melissa says, putting her keys down on the table. “You wouldn’t happen to know who?”

“Uh, no,” Scott says. “Stiles?”

“No idea,” Stiles’ voice comes from the kitchen. “Didn’t see anyone. Derek?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Derek calls back.

“Et tu, Brute?” Stiles says.

“You dug your own grave,” Derek replies, erasing part of Cora’s eye.

“You’re too sensible for Stiles,” Melissa tells him.

“Does everyone just hate me today?” Stiles asks, finally appearing in the doorway. “What did I do?”

Scott claps him on the back. “It’s your curse.”

“Great,” Stiles says, and suddenly swipes the phone in Scott’s hand before taking off up the stairs.

“We are _not_ having Chinese again!” Scott yells, chasing after him, and Melissa lets out a long sigh.

“Think I could trade them for you two?” she asks.

“Laura loves Stiles, so probably,” Derek says. “Scott wouldn’t last a day with the Argents. No offense, Allison.”

Allison, who’s finally got herself under control, shakes her head. “They don’t like him. They don’t really like anyone. Or trust anyone. Or even talk to anyone.”

“Sounds lonely,” Melissa says, wandering towards the kitchen. She doesn’t make a sound as she looks around. Derek can’t tell if that’s good or bad; Melissa’s very good at a poker face.

She walks back to the living room a few minutes later, holding a bottle of Starbucks coffee. “Should we just order for ourselves? Is Greek okay?”

“Definitely,” Allison says. Derek nods in agreement.

Twenty minutes later, Scott and Stiles come down, both looking ruffled, and Allison asks, “Should I be concerned?”

Melissa and Derek both start laughing. Scott looks confused, but Stiles just rolls his eyes.

“Please,” he says. “Never. _Brothers_.”

“If you say so.”

Allison’s innocent face is a lot better than Scott’s, until the doorbell rings and she dissolves into laughter again. Melissa gets up and opens the door.

“You ordered without us?” Stiles says. “I’m feeling the love, really.”

“Oh!” Scott suddenly exclaims. “You were talking about - ew, no! I need to wash my brain.”

“Great detective work there, Scotty,” Stiles deadpans.

"Shut up."

"Ow!"

" _Boys_!"


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, new chapter? That's weird.
> 
> Holy crap okay so I have no excuses anymore. Warning for panic attacks and Jackson being Jackson. To be honest this chapter feels weird to me. I'm almost positive we're reaching the end of this fic though. Isn't that bizarre. What even anymore.

Two outs. Two strikes. Bottom of the ninth, the score 5-4, Cyclones.

Derek’s feeling the pressure. He can barely hear the crowd cheering, barely sees Ethan signal him, and swallows hard as the batter readies himself, stepping back up to the plate.

_One more strike. Throw one more strike and it’s over. That’s all we need. You can do it._

He takes a deep breath and winds up.

He lets it fly.

Instantly he can tell it’s not the pitch he was going for. It’s not going to be the strike he wanted. It’s too slow, too down the middle. Ethan’s ready to catch it, the runner on first is already heading towards second, and Derek holds his breath.

The bat connects with the ball, a good solid _thunk_ coming from it, and it’s a hard hit, though not high. It’s too far for Derek to reach when he lunges for it, and he nearly falls as a result, but he hears a gasp and a _thwack_ , and looks up.

The ball’s in Aiden’s glove, though he’s grimacing. That had to be a painful catch, and Derek winces in sympathy. He knows exactly how that feels. There’s a moment of quiet and then the umpire signals that the batter’s out and it’s all over.

The crowd suddenly starts cheering, as if they hadn’t realized what had happened. Derek’s teammates are all yelling, jumping up and down, a few of them rushing towards Aiden, who’s shaking out his hand. Derek’s relieved and excited as he heads up to shake hands with the other team.

There’s a lot of cheering and high-fiving going on in the dugout as Derek goes in. Aiden, of course, is being treated like a hero. Ethan’s standing next to him, shaking his head good-naturedly. There’s snacks and drinks passed around and finally Derek makes it out to head back to the locker room to get changed.

Stiles and Cora are waiting outside the locker room for him. They’re wearing matching shirts with Derek’s face on them, the same one that Stiles had wore to the tryouts. Cora’s got a Cyclones hat on and Stiles, in his infinite wisdom, had painted his face the same maroon color as their uniform.

Cora slams into him before he’s even cleared the doorway. “Derek! That was awesome!”

“Hi, Cora,” Derek says, trying not to drop his bag as he hugs her back. Stiles rescues him, grabbing the bag before it falls all the way off Derek’s shoulder, and readjusts it.

“That streak of players you threw out was awesome!” Cora’s still going. “It was just one right after the other! How many was it again, Stiles?”

“Five,” Stiles says, grinning at her.

“Right,” Cora nods. “And Stiles said we could get ice cream on the way home.”

Derek raises an eyebrow at Stiles. “Did he?”

“He did,” Stiles says. “Come on, everyone deserves ice cream after striking five people out in a row.”

“It wasn’t really in a row,” Derek says as he follows them.

“Two different innings,” Stiles says. “But they _were_ in a row. And anyway, I want ice cream. So shush.”

Derek laughs. He’s glad Stiles and Cora came to support him. Laura had to miss because of some crisis at work, but she promised to come to the next one and Derek’s pretty sure she’ll show. Laura hates missing their activities. He still hasn’t figured out what’s going on with her, but he’s starting to get worried.

Stiles takes them through the Dairy Queen drive-thru before dropping them off. Derek invites him in, but Stiles has to go take his dad dinner - “He ate donuts this morning and thinks I don’t know, he is going to eat _all the vegetables_.” - so they wave him off and walk to the door.

The window’s open and Derek pauses, hearing Laura’s voice, loud and stressed. He holds a hand out to stop Cora. She gives him a puzzled look until Derek nods towards the window and they both creep closer until they can understand Laura’s voice.

“Yes, sir, I understand that this is important,” she’s saying. “I know that this is my job, but - no, sir, that won’t be necessary.”

She takes a deep breath. Derek exchanges a worried look with Cora. He leans closer.

“Sir, this move has been good for my family,” Laura continues. “Derek and Cora - they’ve made so much progress. They’re _happy_ here. I can’t go and uproot them again, not after - yes, sir, I understand, but _please_.”

Her voice gets quiet. “They’re finally coping. I can’t take that from them.”

Derek feels like he can’t breathe. He’s heard this conversation before - different script, same ending. They’re moving. _Again_.

His feet are moving before he realizes what’s happening. He hears Cora yell after him but doesn’t acknowledge it. He has no idea where he’s going and can’t really bring himself to focus on anything.

They’re moving. They’re moving and Derek won’t be near Stiles and sure, he loves Stiles and he’s pretty sure Stiles loves him but what if that isn’t enough? _I don’t want to leave I don’t want to I don’t want to_

He hears a honk and sees a bright light in his face before someone slams into him from the side and he crashes to the ground, his head slamming into the concrete with enough force to make his ears ring. There’s a heavy weight on top of him, pinning him down.

Derek gasps, what little air he’d had knocked out of him. He blinks at the dark clouds in the sky, desperately trying to draw in a breath and the weight on top of him moves.

“The _fuck_ is wrong with you, Hale?”

“Jackson?” Derek manages to get out into between breaths. He’s still panicking, but his head aches and Jackson and Danny are both leaning over him. Danny’s clearly worried, and Jackson looks...angrily worried? Derek had never seen so many different expressions mixed with _anger_ before he’d met Jackson.

“Derek?” Danny says and Derek starts, looking up to meet Danny’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

Jackson snorts. “Does he _look_ okay?”

“Don’t be a dick,” Danny rolls his eyes.

“Hey, I saved his life, I deserve to call him an idiot.”

“Not helping.”

Derek wants to laugh. He really wants to, but he’s crashing hard. He’s exhausted from the game and from the run and the adrenaline is leaving him feeling totally drained. Danny’s pulling him into a sitting position and he just slumps against him, feeling floaty.

“What happened?” Danny asks. He looks concerned, and his eyes keep darting around like he’ll be able to find whatever set Derek off. Behind him, Jackson’s glaring down a man who has his phone out like he’s going to take a picture. Derek wants to curl in on himself.

“Derek,” Danny says, calmly but firmly. Derek blinks at him and realizes he must have spaced off.

“I -,” he says, then lets out a shuddering breath. “It’s - I just panicked.”

“Uh-huh,” Danny’s not impressed. “Try again.”

Derek grimaces. “I overheard Laura. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you really think we’re that stupid?” Jackson says, sounding pissed off. “You’re an idiot, Hale.”

“Asshole,” Derek mutters. He’s feeling more steady, though, and looks around to realize he’s by the library. That doesn’t explain why Jackson and Danny are there, but Derek doesn’t ask. There’s a gym nearby; Jackson likes to work-out when he’s angry (which is all of the time) so maybe that’s why they’re there. Either way, Derek’s glad they are.

A car pulls up next to them and Derek looks up to see it’s Laura and Cora. Laura’s face is guilty and worried and Derek knows she thinks he’s angry with her.

He’s not. It’s not her fault. He knows that. He knows she’d give anything to keep them there, that she’s probably been fighting with her boss about this for a while. This is probably the cause of the stress. But she can’t lose her job, and she can’t be demoted or have her pay cut.

Laura turns her hazards on and gets out of the car. She approaches slowly, like she thinks she’s going to set Derek off, and he can’t take it. He pushes himself up and just throws his arms around her.

He can feel her shaking, even as she squeezes him back, her grip so tight it’s almost bruising. Derek knows he scared her. He feels guilt starting to build inside of him and squeezes his eyes closed.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be,” Laura says. “I should have told you guys. I shouldn’t have hidden it. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Derek says, squeezing her. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Laura lets out a shaky laugh. “I should be the one telling you that, not the other way around.”

Derek doesn’t respond. He can hear Danny and Jackson behind him, the latter complaining about his butt being numb from sitting on the ground. He can see Cora in the car, watching them with a relieved expression. He gives her a small smile that she returns.

“Let’s go home,” Laura says. “We’ll eat and make a plan. Sound okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. He pulls away and turns to Danny and Jackson, who are both pretending that they were staring a few seconds ago.

“Thanks,” Derek says. “I’ll explain later, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny agrees. “Feel better.”

“Don’t run into traffic,” Jackson says, almost flippantly, ignoring the startled look Laura gives him. Danny punches his arm.

“Wait, what does he mean?” Laura asks. Derek hastily gets into the car, but Laura’s not done.

“Did you - Derek, you - Jesus Christ.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” Derek groans, slumping in his seat. It’s gonna be a long night.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA new chapter whaaaaaaat.
> 
> I'm determined to finish this, guys. We're getting close. Thanks for riding this ride with me this far.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you guys,” Laura says. They’re in the living room, Edi on Derek’s lap, drinking hot chocolate - Laura’s idea, because Derek’s still shaky and Cora’s upset. “I just kept hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

The atmosphere’s different than the last few times Laura’s had to tell them they were moving. For one, it’s more solemn. Usually, Cora’s too shy to make friends. Usually, Derek’s too angry and reserved to make any real connections with anyone. Usually, they don’t have people they leave behind.

_This_ time they do. This time, Derek feels like he’s going to suffocate on the knowledge that he’s going to have to leave Stiles and the others. He doesn’t want to. He likes it in Beacon Hills. He likes his school, he likes the baseball team. He likes his job, he likes and appreciates Jaimie and her friendly nature, even when she’s stressed by customers.

He likes his friends. He likes that he _has_ friends. He likes that they’re not just his friends because of Stiles, that sometimes he’ll hang out with Erica and Boyd, or Lydia and Allison, without Stiles, and he feels comfortable.

He probably maybe actually loves Stiles, and oh, God, he doesn’t want to leave. He really does not.

Laura looks devastated. Derek knows she’s probably been fighting for them for a while now. She’s clearly expecting them to be angry, and even Cora’s eyeing Derek like she’s waiting for one of his explosive episodes.

Derek’s halfway expecting the anger, too, at anything - the world, Laura’s boss, maybe himself - but it’s not there. It hasn’t been for a while now. He can’t remember when that happened, but realizing it now, he’s amazed. He stares at his drink, absentmindedly petting Edi.

“I’m still trying to negotiate with him,” Laura continues when no one else says anything. “He’s sympathetic, but not enough to change his mind. And I can’t lose this job.”

She sounds guilty. There’s no reason for her to be. She always, _always_ puts them first and Derek knows she would go to the ends of the earth for them. She's been their parental figure for years now and Derek's incredibly grateful, because he knows he didn’t make it easy.

“We'll be okay,” he says, surprising all of them by speaking, himself included. He clears his throat awkwardly. “I mean, we've got each other, right? And, uh. Yeah. Obviously I wish we could stay, but maybe this time it'll be different?”

Laura's staring at him with wide, surprised eyes. Cora’s tilted her head, eyes narrowed at him, but she doesn't say anything.

Derek starts to squirm under their combined stares before either of them look away. It's Laura who does first, but only to look at Cora. Then she looks back at Derek.

“Right,” she says, sounding like she's on the verge of crying. “We're gonna be okay.”

She smiles, a little shakily but gratefully and Derek thinks what they're saying is true. They will be okay.

But first, he's got some stuff to take care of.

* * *

 

Derek isn't surprised to see he's received multiple texts from Stiles. He’d known Danny and maybe even Jackson would tell him something was up.

**hey you okay**

**danny says you had a panic attack**

**jackson says he saved your life**

**tell me that's not true i don't wanna owe him**

Derek snorts and sends one text back.

_window's unlocked_

It’s less than two minutes before Stiles is climbing through his window. He takes on look at Derek and grabs his arm, pulling him in for a hug.

Derek squeezes back a little tighter than he normally would and takes a deep breath. Then another, and another, because he's not going to have another panic attack. Stiles doesn't say anything, but he doesn’t let go, either.

Derek’s the one to pull away, because he knows Stiles was waiting for him to do so, not pushing it. There's a lump in his throat.

He's going to miss this.

“What happened?” Stiles asks, pulling Derek to the bed where they fall back to lay down, nearly nose-to-nose, just like they’d always done. Derek blinks, looking at the gold flecks in Stiles’ eyes and wishes he could stay there forever.

“Laura’s boss wants us to move again,” he says.

Stiles is quiet. Then, “Oh.”

“It’s probably going to happen,” Derek says. “Laura doesn't have the pull to fight it, but she's been trying. I don't know when we'd leave.”

Stiles moves the tiniest bit forward so their noses are touching. “And?”

“And Cora and I overheard her,” Derek said. “And I panicked and ran and couldn’t really focus, so I ran into the street and yes, Jackson did save my life.”

“Fuck,” Stiles grumbles. “I mean, I'm glad and grateful and all that, but still. Fuck. Are you okay?”

“I don't know,” Derek says. “I feel...different? Before it was always just whatever, because there was nothing really to anchor me, and I was so angry I didn't care anyway. But this time I'm not angry? But I feel like I should be. Not at Laura, just in general. And I really don't wanna leave here. I don't wanna leave you.”

Stiles is staring directly into Derek’s eyes. They're so close together there's nowhere else for Derek to look, so he stares back.

“Okay,” Stiles says. “So, what do you wanna do? How do you wanna handle this?”

“I don't want to,” Derek admits. “I just want to pretend it's not happening.”

Stiles smiles softly. “As much as I agree with you, and I really, _really_ do, I don't think denial is the best option here.”

Derek grimaces and moves even closer so that their foreheads are touching, too. “I don’t know. I don’t want to break up.”

“Good, ‘cause neither do I,” Stiles says.

It's like a balloon is popped in his chest as he feels incredible relief. “Okay. Good.”

He's not losing Stiles. He can do this.

“You didn't actually think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” Stiles says. “I think I'm offended.”

Derek grins. “You're an idiot.”

“But I'm _your_ idiot. And don't you forget it.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LORD ALMIGHTY IT'S A NEW CHAPTER WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE

“Okay, okay, I’ve got an idea. What if we -.”

“So help me God, Scott, if your idea involves my dad and the witness protection program again -.”

“Don’t lie, Stiles, that was a great plan and you know it.”

“I was grounded for three months! _Three_! It was entirely your fault!”

“Why are they like this?” Derek asks. Allison laughs and Lydia rolls her eyes.

“I wish I knew,” Lydia mutters.

“Aw, they’re just trying to help,” Allison says, her eyes twinkling. “It’s kinda cute.”

It kind of is. They’re in Scott’s living room. It was supposed to be a study group, but the only one who’s actually done any studying is Danny. Even now, he’s got his headphones in and is ignoring them entirely, doing complex equations in his notebook. Every once and a while he glares at the paper and scribbles something out.

It’s been a week since Laura broke the news to Derek, and he’d subsequently broke the news to his friends. Now, Scott and Stiles were trying to come up with a plan so he doesn’t have to move. Jackson looks about three seconds from murdering them both.

“This is bullshit,” Erica complains from Derek’s other side.

“So you’ve said,” Derek says. “About sixty times, I think.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it _is_ ,” Erica says. “I actually _like_ you.”

“That doesn’t happen often,” Boyd pipes up from the floor. He’s leaning against Erica’s legs and repeatedly solving a Rubik’s cube for some reason. His history book is open on his lap, but Derek doesn’t think he’s actually looked at it the entire time they’ve been there.

“Exactly,” Erica says. “Why do you have to move, why couldn’t it be, I don’t know, Mr. Harris, or what’s-his-name, the twin Danny’s not currently banging?”

“Aiden,” Derek supplies.

“Yeah, him,” Erica says. “I wouldn’t miss him.”

“Danny might miss Ethan, though,” Lydia points out. They all look at Danny, who has apparently entered his own world, because he doesn’t even glance up.

“We’ve lost him,” Stiles says. Derek snorts and opens his French book. He’s got a test the next day, he might as well pretend to study.

“Where would you even be moving?” Scott asks.

“Seattle,” Derek says, his stomach twisting. He’s still praying he doesn’t have to move, though he knows getting his hopes up like this is dangerous. It’s practically asking the universe to fuck him over.

“Still West Coast,” Lydia says thoughtfully. “It’s an eleven hour drive. You’ll like Seattle, though.”

“I lived there for a six months of my seventh grade year,” Allison says. “It wasn’t bad. Cold, though.”

Derek grimaces. “Can’t be much worse than New York.”

Allison tilts her head. “I dunno, I’ve never been during the winter.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Derek says. “Rockefeller Center is pretty and all, but not when you’re hypothermic.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Allison says, and she’s smiling. Derek’s glad she at least knows what it’s like to move so much.

“Well, we have to think of something,” Scott says stubbornly. “Derek can’t move.”

Derek doesn’t know how to say that he’s pretty sure he’s going to actually be moving, and probably soon. He appreciates their indignation on his behalf, but he knows Laura’s boss won’t change his mind. And this move will mean a raise, a _big_ one. Derek knows Laura has started to think about how to pay for him to go to college - she’s mentioned it a few times already - and the raise will ease her mind, even if Derek has no intention of letting her pay for any of it.

It’s only a half hour later when Danny irritably points out to all of them that they really do need to study. Derek tries to focus on his French textbook, but nothing he reads sticks in his mind. He’s not sure it matters, since he might not be there for the rest of the year. He knows that Laura’s boss promised to let them stay there until the end of the school year, but he’s not counting on it.

He doesn’t want to be let down even further.

* * *

 

“Okay,” Stiles says the next morning on their way to school. Scott’s half asleep in the backseat, and Isaac’s reading one of his textbooks, likely trying to get some last-minute studying in. “So what we have to do is convince Laura to get a new job.”

Derek sighs. “Stiles, she feels bad enough about this as it is. I’m not going to make her feel worse. She needs this job.”

Stiles makes a face. “Are you sure we can’t just convince her to, I don’t know, go work for Danny’s dad? Or, God forbid, Jackson’s?”

“Now I know you’re desperate,” Derek teases, trying to lighten the mood. He wants everyone to stop talking about it. He doesn’t want to spend his last few weeks, months, however long in Beacon Hills focused on preventing his move. He wants to make the most of it.

Stiles shudders. “I take it back. Don’t let Jackson know I said that.”

“No promises,” Isaac says from the backseat. Stiles glares at him in the rearview mirror, but Isaac doesn’t even look up. Derek hides his grin.

Stiles looks like he’s going to say more, but Scott starts awake, clearly confused, and this distracts everyone until they’re walking into the school. Stiles follows Derek to his locker.

“Hey,” Stiles says as Derek spins the lock to his combination. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “I mean, I don’t want to move, but...I’m okay. I just don’t wanna keep talking about it.”

Stiles studies him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. Derek stares back, feeling like he’s being tested.

After a long moment, Stiles finally nods. “Okay. Let’s go to Zio’s tonight.”

“Okay,” Derek says, feeling like he’s missing something. “Sounds good.”

Stiles nods again. “Okay. Good.”

And then he walks off. Derek can’t help feeling he did something wrong as he grabs his notebooks and closes it. He’s starting to feel anxious as he walks to English.

Stiles is sitting in his usual seat, though, doodling in his notebook, and halfway through class he drops a paper on Derek’s desk. Derek opens it to see a crude drawing of their teacher, only recognizable by his ridiculous mustache. Stiles is grinning when he looks over at him, and Derek can’t help the relief that fills him.

“It’s a masterpiece,” he whispers.

“You’re goddamn right,” Stiles replies, reaching out for it. “Here, let me sign it.”

Derek’s trying not to snicker as Stiles signs the corner of the page with a flourish, his signature taking up more of the paper than the drawing. Stiles puts it back on Derek’s desk and winks. Derek tucks it away in his folder, intent on keeping it.

It’s going to be hard to leave. He’s really going to miss this.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm still working on this. We're almost there, guys, thanks for sticking it out with me so far.
> 
> Warning for a panic attack and (SPOILER) Derek starts to scratch at his own arm, almost a form of self harm. I don't know if that would trigger anyone, but I thought I'd warn for it anyway.

“To Zio’s!” Stiles announces, holding his soda up. “The best damn pizza in the world!”

“That’s debatable,” Allison says, though she holds her drink up, too. Derek can’t help but laugh as he lifts his up to join them.

“Blasphemy!” Stiles says, pointing at Allison.

“You haven’t been outside of California,” Jackson says flatly.

“Who invited you to this conversation?” Stiles demands. Derek snorts, nearly inhaling half his Coke. As he coughs, he can hear Jackson call Stiles an idiot.

It’s evening, the kind of evening that promises change is coming. It’s clear outside, just a hint of a chill in the air. April is only a few days away. Derek’s feeling somewhat poetic and his fingers are itching to draw the scene around him.

They’re at Zio’s. Stiles had apparently invited everyone else, including Ethan, who is sitting next to Danny, looking amused. Allison is sitting on the same chair as Scott, their legs entangled, and Erica’s got her feet in Boyd’s lap. Stiles has been pushing his chair closer and closer to Derek, their shoulders now pressed up against each other. Isaac is stacking the salt and pepper shakers, having swiped a few from the tables around them.

In other words, it’s a pretty normal night, and Derek wants to capture it.

His sketchbook is in his bag, which is under his chair, but Stiles is still moving closer and Derek doesn’t want to dislodge him. He instead decides to take in as much as he can, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to enjoy this while he can. He’s not focusing on that.

He’s focused on the way that Danny whispers something to Ethan that makes him smirk, and Jackson’s fake irritation as Lydia tells him they’re going to go prom dress shopping soon. The adoring way Scott looks at Allison, and the patient expression on Boyd’s face as Erica starts to rant about one of their teachers. The way that Isaac, despite not having a date, doesn’t seem to be resentful.

He’s almost hyper-aware of the way Stiles is slowly leaning more and more on him, like he’s trying to be as close as humanly possible, if not closer. He’s not sure if he’s imagining the way he’s being pulled towards Stiles, as if there’s a magnet pulling him. He’s pretty sure it’s in his head.

Stiles ends up leaning fully on him, only partially on his own chair. It can’t be comfortable, but Stiles doesn’t complain. Derek doesn’t mind. If anything, the weight is soothing. And when Stiles nods off on Derek’s shoulder, he doesn’t move.

He’s only got so much time left in Beacon Hills. He’s not going to waste a moment.

* * *

 

“So that’s it then,” Cora says.

“Yep,” Laura says. The word hangs in the air with a sense of finality, one Derek wishes weren’t there. One that says their future has been decided, and it’s not one any of them want.

They’re moving. It’s official. Laura’s tried all she could to fight it. She’d even started looking into jobs, but all she’d found is minimum-wage paying jobs and jobs she’s not qualified for. There was one she was interested in, but when she called to possibly apply for it, they told her they weren’t hiring. She even tried to negotiate with her boss one more time, but he’d told her that the decision had come from above him.

“We’re finishing the school year here,” Laura confirms. “I’ll have to fly out there to meet with the my new coworkers and check out where we’re living at the end of May.”

Derek nods, feeling his stomach clench. They know how this goes.

"I'll have you guys stay with the sheriff and Stiles," Laura continues. "He's already agreed. The plan is to actually leave on June fifteenth."

She takes a deep breath, clearly trying to hold it together for them. "Sound good?"

Derek manages a small smile for her. Cora nods, though she doesn't look happy.

Laura makes them pasta and then they sit down and watch _The Princess Bride_. They start off quiet, but it doesn’t last long. They can’t watch it without quoting along. It's a school night, so after that, Laura tells them to go to bed.

Derek gets ready for bed and leaves his door open. He has a feeling he’s going to have a visitor tonight, and sure enough, as he's plugging his phone in, Cora creeps through, dressed in pajamas. Derek gestures to the bed. Cora takes this as permission to run and jump onto the bed, landing square in the middle and giving him her best innocent look.

Derek rolls his eyes and shuts his door, then turns the light off. He gets into bed, where Cora's already moved over for him.

"You okay?" he asks.

Cora's quiet for a long time. She used to get like this a lot right after the fire, when they were all still shell-shocked and too close to complete meltdowns at any moment. She's clearly trying not to upset either of them, and Derek squeezes her hand, letting her know it's okay.

Finally, Cora whispers, "I don't want to move."

She moves her head to his shoulder and Derek can feels she's shaking. He hears her sniffle and realizes she's crying.

He gets his arm around her, pulling her close. "I know. I don't either."

That seems to break the dam, as she starts sobbing. She presses her face into his chest to muffle them, and Derek has to blink back his own tears. He feels helpless. He wants to comfort her, but he's got no idea what to say. Nothing he could say will change anything. They'll still be moving in two months, and leaving their friends, the only friends they've really made since the fire. They'll go off to Seattle and have to start all over again. Derek doesn't know how it's going to go.

He's terrified he'll lose all of his progress. He's terrified Cora will, too. He's come to think of this house as an actual home in a way nowhere else has been since theirs burned down. He thinks of this town as home, and the people, too.

He doesn't want to leave.

Cora eventually cries herself to sleep, but Derek stays awake. He can't sleep. His mind is too busy, finding all the worst case scenarios of the move.

He's got a hundred questions going through his mind. What if they can't take Edi? What if Cora can't handle switching schools again? What if Derek can't? What if he stops talking to all of his friends here? What if they don't want to talk to him anymore? What if Stiles changes his mind? What if they move and Laura loses her job anyway? What if he gets angry again and Cora has more panic attacks?

He doesn't manage to sleep at all and by the time he gets out to Stiles' Jeep, he's got a headache that promises to grow to a full-blown migraine at some point later.

"You look like shit," Isaac says.

"Thanks," Derek says flatly. He knows he looks exhausted. He'd had to wave off Laura's concerns more than once.

"Whoa, you do look bad," Scott says. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"No," Derek grumbles. "Can we not talk about it?"

"What happened?" Scott asks as Stiles walks out of his own house and unlocks the doors to the Jeep. Derek opens the door and gestures at Scott to get in.

"Not a talking day then, got it," Scott says, and climbs in. Derek climbs into the front seat and tries not to feel guilty. Scott cares about him and just wants to help him. But still, he doesn't want to talk about it.

Stiles doesn't mention anything about Derek's attitude until they get to Derek's locker. Then he leans up against the wall next to the lockers and says, "You okay?"

Derek shrugs. Stiles studies his face for a while, then nods. "Okay. If you want to talk about it, just let me know."

Derek doesn't, but he knows Stiles won't push it. He gets Derek's moods. Derek grabs the book they're reading for English and his history book and shuts his locker. As they head toward their classroom, he grabs Stiles' hand. If Stiles is surprised, he doesn't show it. He just squeezes Derek's hand once and doesn't let go until they're in the classroom and going to respective seats.

Scott's right. It's not a talking day for Derek, and he's quiet throughout the entire school day. No one pushes him on it, and he's glad. He's quiet through baseball practice, though he tries not to let it affect his game and he's pretty sure he succeeds.

Stiles is waiting for him in the parking lot after practice. Derek wordlessly puts his bag in the front seat, and then turns to see Stiles staring at him. Derek blinks, but still can't bring himself to say anything. It's too much effort.

"Is it cool if I have dinner at your place?" Stiles asks, and Derek nods. He knows Laura will be okay with it, and he's desperately grateful that Stiles is coming over. He doesn't understand how Stiles can deal with him when he's like this, but he's not about to turn him down.

The ride home is long due to an accident blocking most of the main street to get home. Derek's fine until they get closer, and he realizes there's smoke. Their windows are down and Derek can smell it now, and the world feels far away.

Stiles reacts faster than Derek and literally shoves his hoodie into Derek's face. Derek's breath hitches as both his nose and eyes are blocked from the smoke, and he threads his hands in Stiles's jacket, taking slow, deep breaths. It smells just like Stiles, and abruptly Derek wants to cry.

He doesn't pull his face out of the hoodie until well after Stiles has turned off the car. He knows he's just imagining that the smell of smoke still lingers, but he can't get rid of it. His legs are shaky as he gets out, and his hands are so unsteady he has to give Stiles to keys to open the front door.

Laura and Cora are in the kitchen, he can hear them, but he just heads up the stairs to his room. He’s jittery and he feels wrong, like he wants to tear off his own skin.

He doesn't realize that he's actually scratching at his arm until a hand grips his. He looks up to see Stiles, brown eyes worried. The door is closed behind him and it should bother Derek that he didn't hear Stiles come in, but it doesn't.

Stiles doesn't let go of his wrist, but moves around to sit down with Derek on the bed. His grip is solid and real, and it anchors Derek to reality. Slowly, very, _very_ slowly, he comes back to himself.

As he does, he realizes just how exhausted he is. He slowly leans back onto the bed and Stiles follows him down, still holding his wrist, until they're laying side by side on the bed in their usual position. Derek knows he should say something, should tell Stiles how he's feeling, but he's still shaky and doesn't trust himself to speak. He just lies there with Stiles, ignoring the buzzing in his head and trying to relax.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he must have, because he wakes up the next morning to his alarm, tucked into bed. There's an arm around him and his head is on someone's chest, and he lifts his head slowly to see Stiles, still mostly asleep and dressed in the clothes he'd worn to school the day before.

Stiles opens his eyes slowly and catches Derek staring at him. He still looks half asleep, but he reaches over and turns off the alarm, then looks back at Derek.

"Hey," he says. "How you feeling?"

"Okay," Derek croaks out, and he's surprised to realize that it's not a lie. He's still tired, still feels that buzzing in the back of his head, but it's far quieter than it has been. His head no longer hurts and that panicked feeling left over from seeing the fire is gone. He’s even hungry.

“We’ll pick up something on the way,” Stiles says after Derek tells him this. Derek agrees, getting out of bed and getting dressed. His body feels heavy, but he’s steady and is ready in no time. Stiles ends up wearing some of Derek’s clothes.

Laura’s in the living room when they come downstairs, and she looks relieved. She doesn’t say anything, just gives Derek a hug, and Cora, who turns out to be waiting on the porch does the same. Isaac and Scott both give them looks as they walk towards Stiles’ Jeep, but Derek doesn’t care. He just gets in and tries not to blush at their jokes.

The sun is out and the breeze is warm on his face and for a moment, Derek feels at peace. He takes a breath and tries to hold onto the moment, to capture how the world looks and feels. He’s pretty sure he’ll need the memory soon.


End file.
